The snow man

by George Sand

Christian wondered where all the family slept, for he saw only two beds in recesses in the wall, like berths in a ship. His friends explained to him that these were the beds of the danneman and his sister. The children slept on benches, with no other covering than fur cloaks.

“In other respects,” said the major to Christian, who inquired curiously about all their habits, “though they are faithful to the rude customs of our mountaineers of pure race, you will find, also, that they have luxuries of their own, due to the labors of our host and the plentifulness of game in these savage places. I told you that Danneman Bœtsoi was a skilful and experienced hunter; but you must know that he is skilful not only in tracking savage beasts, but also in killing them without damaging their skins, and in preparing and preserving their precious remains. We always apply to him when we want a good and handsome article at a fair price: skins of the sucking doe, for instance, which, for the summer, make the coolest and most delicious bed in the world, and which wash like linen; skins of the long-haired black bear, for lining sleighs; and seal-skin cloaks, impervious to the rain, to the snow, and, above all, to the interminable autumn fogs, which are exceedingly penetrating and unhealthy. Still further, he has rarities and even curiosities in the way of furs to dispose of, for Joë Bœtsoi has travelled a great deal in still colder regions than this, and he is in communication with hunters, who send him the objects of his traffic by wandering Laplanders and Norwegian traders; northern caravans, in which the camel is replaced by the reindeer, and whose trade, for the most part, consists merely in an exchange of commodities, after the manner of the ancients.”

Christian was curious to see these furs. The danneman, thinking he wanted to purchase some of them, led him and the major to a little shed, where the skins were hanging up. He begged Larrson to dispose of one or all of them to the satisfaction of his friend, and would not consent to be informed of the price of sale agreed upon, before receiving it.

“You understand the business as well as I do,” he said, “and you are master in my house.”

Osmund translated these words to Christian, who admired the simple dignity of the Dalecarlian, and inquired whether he would show equal confidence in any one who might claim his hospitality.

“He has usually a great deal of faith,” replied the major, “for the manners here are patriarchal. The Dalecarlian, the Swiss of the north, has great and heroic virtues, but the country he lives in is poor. Our mines draw vagabonds from all parts of the country; and criminals, concealed in this subterranean world, often avoid, for a long time, the punishments pronounced against them in other provinces. The peasant, when he is neither a landowner nor employed in the mines, is so wretchedly poor, that he is sometimes obliged to beg or to steal. And yet the number of malefactors is infinitely small in comparison to that of persons without means, whom the privileged classes absolutely ignore. The rich peasant, therefore, cannot confide in all chance comers, nor does he feel the slightest faith in the nobility, who vote regularly in the Diet for their own interests, in opposition to those of the other classes; but the soldier, above all the members of the indelta, is the friend of the peasant. We are the most independent power in the State, since the law secures us a sufficient and honorable support in spite of every opposing influence. It is well known that we are generally devoted to the king, when he sustains the people and protects them against the abuses of the nobility. This is his only course with us, and the peasant, who makes common cause with him, cannot be deceived. Have patience, Christian; a time will come when the senate will be obliged to settle accounts with the bourgeois and peasant! Our king dares not. Our queen, Ulrica, is bold enough, but would the sister of Frederick the Great pause on the road if she could once succeed in subduing the pride and ambition of the jarls? I doubt it. She would think only of extending the royal power, without admitting that the people also ought to be allowed more freedom. Our hope, therefore, is in Henry, the prince royal. He is a man of genius and a man of action! Yes, yes! A time will come—. But pardon me! I am forgetting that you want to look at furs, and that you can scarcely feel any interest in the politics of our country; however, you may rest assured that the prince royal—”

“Yes, yes, the prince royal!” repeated the lieutenant, who had followed the major and Christian under the shed.

He paused with a thoughtful expression, being, in fact, busy in learning the memorable words, which his friend had just uttered, by heart, so that he might form a definite opinion about the situation of his country. He would have been rather indifferent upon this subject if he had consulted the apathetic philosophy that was natural to him; but the major had an opinion, and the lieutenant, therefore, must have one too, and he could not, of course, differ from his friend. Consequently he, also, felt unbounded hope and confidence in the genius of the prince royal. Were both he and Larrson mistaken? Henry (the future Gustavus III.) had many remarkable and most seductive qualities; he was learned, eloquent, courageous, and certainly, in the beginning of his career, sincere, and ambitious of doing good; but he, like Charles XII., and so many others, was destined to yield to the dominion of his own passions, which warred against his desire to promote the public weal. After saving Sweden from an overbearing oligarchy, he did his best to ruin it by a blind ostentation and the false calculations of a corrupt policy. Still, he was a great man at a given moment of his life, when, without shedding a drop of blood, he succeeded in freeing his people from the tyranny of a caste, irresistibly tempted by its privileges to destroy the equilibrium of society.

Christian, from all that he had been able to gather as to the situation of the country, and the presumed character of the future heir of the throne, shared fully the major’s hopes and illusions; but, nevertheless, he was still more occupied for the moment, not in purchasing the lining for a winter garment—he could not afford any such luxury—but in examining the skins of animals piled up around him in the danneman’s little store. In regard to several species this was a lesson for him in natural history; and Larrson, who was a thoroughly accomplished hunter, informed him in what regions of the north these species were indigenous.

“Since we shall set out immediately to hunt our bear,” he said, in conclusion, “you ought to know beforehand what sort of animal we are to deal with. According to Danneman Bœtsoi it is a mongrel, but it is yet to be proved that the different varieties of the bear can breed together. There are three of them in Norway: the bress-diur, which lives upon leaves and herbs, and which is very fond of milk and honey; the ildgiersdiur, which eats meat; and the myrebiorn, which feeds upon ants. As for the white bear of the polar seas, which is a fourth, and still more powerful family, I need not tell you that it is not found among us.”