Imagens da página
PDF
ePub

bearing the bell, as when the flock breaks into new pasture, which gives it an intermittent rapidity, or by the sheep starting off in a run, when the sound has a regular palpitation. The experienced ear of Oak knew the sound he now heard to be caused by the running of the flock with great velocity.

These two hundred

There were the fifty. had left them, but the Gabriel called at the

He jumped out of bed, dressed, and tore down the lane through a foggy dawn, and ascended the hill. The forward ewes were kept apart from those among which the fall of lambs would be later, there being two hundred of the latter class in Gabriel's flock. seemed to have absolutely vanished from the hill. with their lambs, enclosed at the other end as he rest, forming the bulk of the flock, were nowhere. top of his voice the shepherd's call. "Ovey, ovey, ovey!" "Not a single bleat. He went to the hedge-a gap had been broken through it, and in the gap were the footprints of the sheep. Rather surprised to find them break fence at this season, yet putting it down instantly to their great fondness for ivy in winter-time, of which a great deal grew in the plantation, he followed through the hedge. They were not in the plantation. He called again: the valleys and furthest hills resounded as when the sailors invoked the lost Hylas on the Mysian shore; but no sheep. He passed through the trees and along the ridge of the hill. On the extreme summit, where the ends of the two converging hedges of which we have spoken were stopped short by meeting the brow of the chalk-pit, he saw the younger dog standing against the sky-dark and motionless as Napoleon at St. Helena.

A horrible conviction darted through Oak. With a sensation of bodily faintness he advanced: at one point the rails were broken through, and there he saw the footprints of his ewes. The dog came up, licked his hand, and made signals implying that he expected some great reward for signal services rendered. Oak looked over the precipice. The ewes lay dead at its foot-a heap of two hundred mangled carcases, representing in their condition just now at least two hundred more.

Oak was an intensely humane man: indeed, his humanity often tore in pieces any politic intentions of his bordering on strategy, and carried him on as by gravitation. A shadow in his life had always been that his flock ended in mutton-that a day came and found every shepherd an arrant traitor to his defenceless sheep. His first feeling now was one of pity for the untimely fate of these gentle ewes and their unborn lambs.

It was a second to remember another phase of the matter. The sheep were not insured. All the savings of a frugal life had been dispersed at a blow; his hopes of being an independent farmer were laid low-possibly for ever. Gabriel's energies, patience, and industry had been so severely taxed during the years of his life between eighteen and eight-and-twenty, to reach his present stage of progress, that no more seemed to be left in him. He leant down upon a rail, and covered his face with his hands.

Stupors, however, do not last for ever, and Farmer Oak recovered from his. It was as remarkable as it was characteristic that the one sentence he uttered was in thankfulness :

:

"Thank God I am not married; what would she have done in the poverty now coming upon me!"

Oak raised his head, and wondering what he could do, listlessly surveyed the scene. By the outer margin of the pit was an oval pond, and over it hung the attenuated skeleton of a chrome-yellow moon, which had only a few days to last-the morning star dogging her on the right hand. The pool glittered like a dead man's eye, and as the world awoke a breeze blew, shaking and elongating the reflection of the moon without breaking it, and turning the image of the star to a phosphoric streak upon the water. All this Oak saw and remembered.

As far as could be learnt it appeared that the poor young dog, still under the impression that since he was kept for running after sheep, the more he ran after them the better, had at the end of his meal off the dead lamb, which may have given him additional energy and spirits, collected all the ewes into a corner, driven the timid creatures through the hedge, across the upper field, and by main force of worrying had given them momentum enough to break down a portion of the rotten railing, and so hurled them over the edge.

George's son had done his work so thoroughly that he was considered too good a workman to live, and was, in fact, taken and tragically shot at twelve o'clock that same day-another instance of the untoward fate which so often attends dogs and other philosophers who follow out a train of reasoning to its logical conclusion, and attempt perfectly consistent conduct in a world made up so largely of compromise.

Gabriel's farm had been stocked by a dealer-on the strength of Oak's promising look and character-who was receiving a per-centage from the farmer till such time as the advance should be cleared off. Oak found that the value of stock, plant, and implements which were really his own. would be about sufficient to pay his debts, leaving himself a free man with the clothes he stood up in, and nothing more.

South Siberian Stories.

As two Tartar princes were riding afield one day, far away from home, they agreed that if a son should be born to the one, and a daughter to the other, the children should be mutually betrothed. Soon afterwards came tidings that to the one had been born a boy named Tajyr, and to the other a girl named Saura. The two princes set off at once for their homes, but Tajyr's father was thrown from his horse by the way and killed. A few years passed by and the two children became intimate associates, but they knew nothing about the betrothal compact. At last, one day, as they sat side by side at school, Tajyr pressed Saura's hand on their book. Saura told this to her mother, who cried, "O my child, thou hast a father, but Tajyr is an orphan; to him we will not give thee in marriage." And soon afterwards Saura was carried away by her father, who took up his abode in a distant city of which he became the ruler.

For some time Tajyr remained at home, but at length the story of his betrothal came to his ear; then he took leave of his mother and set out in search of his bride. After many adventures he came to a city in which lived a childless old woman, and she adopted him as her son. One day as he wandered about the streets there came to his ears the sound of children reading aloud in a school, and he went home and wept bitterly. His adopted mother marvelled thereat; he told her that he could not but weep when he heard the voices of schoolchildren, and he asked what manner of school this was. She told him that it was one in which forty maidens were taught, and that their teacher was the daughter of a stranger prince who had become the ruler of the city. Tajyr begged her to get leave for him to study in that school; so she went to the prince and besought him to allow her son to learn to read together with the forty maidens, and the prince granted her prayer. So Tajyr went to the school, and in the teacher he recognized his betrothed. Beginning at the bottom of the class he each day gained a place, and at the end of forty days he found himself by Saura's side. Then he made himself known to her, and she recognized in him her rightful lord. So she dismissed her forty pupils, saying that she would teach no more. learnt what had taken place he was wroth, and he seized Tajyr, not knowing who he really was, shut him up in a great chest, and set it afloat on the sea. But Tajyr escaped, and after a time he made his way back to his bride. Again did her father seize him, and this time he gave orders that the audacious stranger should have his head struck off. So Tajyr was led away to the place of execution.

When her father

In vain did "many lords and viziers and Tartars," moved by Saura's prayers, entreat the prince to pardon her lover. But at last came Saura herself, her hair all dishevelled, her face all torn and bleeding, and so bitterly did she weep that at last the prince consented to spare Tajyr's life. Off set a messenger to bid the headsman stay his hand. But the respite came too late; Tajyr was already dead. Then Saura called to her the forty maidens with whom she had been at school, and with them she

set out for the spot where Tajyr's body lay. But when they drew nigh, fear came upon the maidens. So Saura kissed them and let them go, but she herself went on. And when she had found the corpse she threw her arms around it, and between it and her own fair breast she set a sharp dagger in such a manner that when she straitened her embrace the dagger pierced her heart, and so she died.

They buried her and Tajyr apart; but even in death he would not be severed from her, and a few days later the bodies of the two lovers were found in the same grave. Then they buried them in two graves between which water flowed. Forty days later they who passed that way saw that a poplar had grown up at the head of each grave, and the two trees had bent towards each other and intertwined their boughs, forming a leafy arch above the stream. On these boughs stood storks, and amid the foliage nightingales sang. And there, amid the birds and the green leaves, might the gliding forms of Tajyr and Saura be seen.

Such is the outline of a story current among the Tobol Tartars-one of the numerous branches of the great Turkish family in Siberia. It is quoted here as the first of a few specimens of the popular tales of that family, not on account of any originality of theme, for it is, like most of the stories of its class, merely an echo of an alien tale; nor for any special dexterity of handling, for its details are full of confusion and obscurity; but because it contains more of human interest than is usually to be found in the wild legends of these uncultured peoples. Of the numerous stories contained in the bulky volumes which the erudite industry of Dr. Radloff, one of the Professors in the University of Kazan, is devoting to the "Folk-literature of the Turkish races of South Siberia,' the greater part describe the adventures of heroes who, being clearly mythological, have but little in common with the ordinary weaknesses of humanity. By way of illustration of this statement we will give a very condensed version of the metrical romance of Altyn Pyrkan, a poem of more than usual obscurity, and no less than 1,630 lines long. Another of the poems, it may be observed, runs to the length of 3,825 lines.

[ocr errors]

Until his sixtieth year had passed away the rich Kara Kan was child"Proben der Volkslitteratur der türkischen Stämme Sud-Sibiriens, gesammelt und übersetzt von Dr. W. Radloff," St. Petersburg 1866-72-a work of which it is impossible to speak too highly. Four volumes have, as yet, appeared. The tale of Tajyr and Saura occurs at vol. iv. p. 340. Dr. Radloff's spelling of proper names has been followed throughout, except in the case of some modified vowels, in which the diacritical points have been discarded as needless encumbrances, Saura being substituted for Säürä, &c.

less; then a babe was born to him. But at that very time he was attacked by an irresistible foe, Altyn Argak by name, who, in obedience to the commands of his father, Saryg Kan, carried off into captivity Kara Kan and all that belonged to him. Only in one thing did Altyn Argak disobey his father, in that he did not slay Kara Kan's new-born babe. Now when Altyn Argak drew nigh to his father's abode, he ordered a hut to be built of reeds, and in it he left Kara Kan with his wife and infant child, while he himself rode on to report to his father what he had done. But when Saryg Kan learnt what had taken place he waxed wroth with his son because he had not slain Kara Kan's child, and he cried aloud, "Ho ye who dwell beneath the earth, Ye Seven Naked Men, come forth!" Then the whole earth trembled, and the Seven Naked Men appeared and listened to the commands of Saryg Kan. And they seized Altyn Argak and bore him away to a mountain peak. There they bound him and his horse by nine chains to a mighty pyre, formed of all the wood which the mountain forests could supply; and, having set the pile alight, they watched it while it burnt. Nine years long did it burn before it was all consumed. Then a wind arose and scattered the ashes far and wide. Where the fire had blazed sprang up a rich crop of grass, and the spot on which Altyn Argak perished could by no eye be recognized, "neither by the god who dwells on high nor by the demon who dwells below."

[ocr errors]

As Saryg Kan rode towards the reed-hut in which Kara Kan dwelt with his family, he became aware of a wondrous Foal. Golden was its mane, and golden were its fore hoofs; its hind hoofs and its tail were of silver. He strove to catch it, but it ran to the reed-hut, caught up into one of its nostrils Kara Kan's babe, and disappeared. Saryg Kan sent after it his "two black hounds" and "the two king-eagles which dwell in the sky ; then he summoned "the Seven-headed Tschälbägän, with the iron mace, who dwells below the earth;" the fish-god, Kär Palyk, "who lives at the bottom of the sea;" and the terrible" Swan-wife with the fallow mare," and ordered them to seek the Foal within the earth, and below the earth, and in all the waters of the earth. Having done this, he tried to find, by means of a golden mirror, which way he ought to ride. But neither by gazing at the sun and moon in it, nor by counting "the stars of heaven," and "all the water-drops," and "the roots of the herbs," could he make out in which direction the Foal had fled. So he rode blindly on. Meantime Kara Kan and his wife had died. "Of hunger and of thirst perished both the aged ones."

Long did Saryg Kan ride on. At length one day, on the summit of a bare "iron peak," over which no bird could fly, up which no beast could climb, he found the Foal resting, and beside it, on a broad stone, the Babe. Bending his bow with such force that his face, from being "whiter than snow," and "redder than blood," turned "all black," he let fly an arrow at the Foal. 'Upon this earth was there no people which did not hear the whirring of the bowstring;" but the arrow flew idly by, and the Foal disappeared. A second time did Saryg Kan climb a hill, and

66

« AnteriorContinuar »