Seldwyla Folks: Three Singular Tales

by Gottfried Keller

As the boy grew up marvelously, becoming handsomer and more manly with every day, the forester declared at breakfast one morning that the time was now ripe to take him along into the woods and let him learn the difficult craft of the huntsman. Thus he was taken from the side of Kuengolt, and spent now all his time, from dawn until nightfall, with the men, in forest, moor and heath. And now indeed his limbs began to stretch that it was a pleasure to watch him. Swift and limber like a stag, he obeyed each word or hint, and ran whither he was sent. Silent and docile, he was forever where wanted; carried weapons and tackle, gear and utensils, helped spread the nets, leaped across trenches and morass, and spied out the whereabouts of the game. Soon he knew the tracks of all the animals, knew how to imitate the call of the birds, and before any one expected it, he had a young wildboar run into his spear. Now, too, the forester gave him a crossbow. With it he was every day, every hour almost, exercising his skill, aiming at the target, shooting at living objects as well. In a word, when Dietegen was but sixteen, he was already an expert woodsman who might be placed anywhere, and it would happen now and then that his patron sent him out with a number of his men to guard the municipal woods and head the chase.

Dietegen, therefore, might be seen not alone with the crossbow on his back, but also with pen and ink-horn in his girdle upon the mountain side, and with his keen watchful eyes and his unfailing memory he was a great help to his fosterfather. And since with every day he became more reliable and useful, the master forester learned to love him better all along, and used to say that the boy must in the end become a full-fledged, an honorable and martial citizen.

It could under these circumstances not be otherwise than that Dietegen on his part was devoted soul and body to the forester. For there is no attachment like that of the youth for the mature man of whom he knows that he is doing his best to teach him all the secrets of his craft, and whom he holds to be his unapproached model.

The chief forester was a man of about forty; tall and well-built, with broad shoulders and of handsome appearance and noble carriage. His hair of golden sheen was already lightly sprinkled with silver, but his complexion was ruddy, and his blue eyes shone frank, open and full of fire. In his younger days, too, he had been among the wildest and merriest of Seldwyla's choice spirits, and many were the quaint and original quips he had perpetrated at that time of his life. But when he had won his young wife, he altered instantly, and since then he had been the soberest and the most sensible man in the world. For his dear wife was of a most delicate habit, and of a kindness of heart that could not defend itself, and although by no means without a spirit and a wit of her own, she would have been unable to meet unkindness with a sharp tongue. A wife of ready wit and pugnacity would probably have spurred this naturally sprightly man on to further doings, but in contest with the graceful feebleness of this delicate wife of his he behaved like the truly strong. He watched over her as over the apple of his eye, did only those things which gave her pleasure, and after his busy day's work remained gladly at his own hearth.

At the most important festivities of the town only, three or four times a year, he went among the councilmen and other citizens, led them with his fresh vigor in deliberation and at the festive board, and after drinking one after the other of the great guzzlers under the table, he would, as the last of the doughty champions, rise upright from his seat, stride quietly out of the council chamber, and then with a jolly smile walk uphill to his forest home.

But the chief comedy would always come the next day. For then he would waken, after all, with a head that hummed like a beehive, and then he would rouse himself fully, half morosely, half with a leonine jovial humor that indeed had the dimensions of a lion when compared with the proverbial distemper of the average toper. Early he would then show up at breakfast, the sun shining with strength upon his naked scalp, and ignoring his symptoms, he would jest and make fun of himself and his achievements of the previous night. His wife, then, always hungering after her husband's humor, he being usually rather reticent, would then answer his sallies with a merry laughter, so bell-like and wholesouled as one would never have suspected in a being so demure as she. His children would laugh, also his gamekeepers and huntsmen, and lastly his servants. And in that way the whole day would pass. Everything that day would be done with a bright smile and a salvo of hearty laughter. And always the chief forester leading them all, handling his axe, lifting heavy weights, doing the work of three ordinary men. On such a day it was once that fire broke out in the town. High above burning roofs a poor old woman, in her frail wooden balcony, forgotten and disregarded, was shrilly crying and moaning for help from a fiery death, and above her shoulder her tame starling went through the drollest of antics, likewise claiming attention. Nobody could think of a way to save mistress and bird. The flames came nearer and ever nearer. But our chief forester climbed up to a protruding coping on a high wall facing the old woman's nook, a spot where he stood like a rock. Then with herculean strength he pulled up a long ladder to him, turned it over and balanced it neatly until it touched the window where the old hag was struggling for breath. He placed it securely within the opening, on the sill, and then he strode across it, firm and unafraid, back and forth, carrying the ancient woman safely across his shoulder, and the stuttering starling on his head, the greedily licking flames and the swirling clouds of smoke beneath his feet. And all this he did, not by any means in a heroic pose, as something dangerous or praiseworthy, but as though it were a harmless joke, smiling and laughing.

After a solid piece of work of that kind he would feast with his family in jolly style, dishing up the best the house afforded. And at such times he always was particularly tender to his wife, taking her on his knee, to the great amusement of the children, and dubbing her his "little whitebird," and his "swallow," and she, her arms clasped in pleasurable self-forgetfulness, would laughingly watch his antics.

On a day like that, too, he once arranged for a dance, it being the first of May. He had a musician fetched from town, and got likewise some merry young folks to increase the sport. And there was dancing aplenty on the smooth greensward in front of the house, right under the blooming trees, and dainty dancing it was. The chief forester opened the merriment with his smiling young wife, she in her modest finery and with her girlish shape. As they made the first steps, she looked over her shoulder at the youngsters, happy as could be, and tipping her foot on the green sod, impatient to be off. Just then Dietegen, who for much of the time past had kept to the men entirely, threw a glance at Kuengolt, and lo! he saw that she also was growing up to be a handsome woman, as pretty a picture as her mother. Her features indeed strongly resembled those of her mother, small, regular and charming. But in her figure she took more after her father, for she was trimly built like a straight young pine, and although but fourteen her bosom was already rounded like that of a grown-up damsel. Golden curls fell in a shower down her back and hid the somewhat angular shoulderblades. She was clad all in green, wore around her neck her amber beads, and on her head, according to the fashion of those days, a wreath of rosebuds. Her eyes shone pleasantly and frankly from a guileless face, but once in a while they would flash wilfully and glide casually over the row of youths whose eyes hung on her youthful beauty, with a slightly critical bent, and at last rest for an instant on Dietegen, then turn away again. Dietegen looked as though hungering for recognition, but she only once more glanced back at him. But that glance seemed to have somewhat embarrassed her, for she stopped to arrange her hair, while he flushed deeply.

That indeed was the first time when they two felt they were no longer mere children. But a few minutes later they met and found themselves partners in a country dance, hand in hand. A new and sweet sensation pulsed through his veins, and this remained even after the ring of dancers had again been broken.

Kuengolt, however, had still the same feeling regarding him; she looked upon the youth as upon something all her own, as something belonging to her, and of which, therefore, one may be sure and need not guard closely. Only once in a while she would send a spying glance in his direction, and when accident would bring him into the close neighborhood of another maiden, there would also be Kuengolt watching him.