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diff --git a/1367-0.txt b/1367-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..80ded41 --- /dev/null +++ b/1367-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1058 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1367 *** + +FINDELKIND + +By Louise de la Ramee (AKA Ouida) + + +Works of Louisa de la Ramee ("Ouida") + + Findelkind + Muriella + A Dog of Flanders + The Nurnberg Stove + A Provence Rose + Two Little Wooden Shoes + + + + + +FINDELKIND + + +There was a little boy, a year or two ago, who lived under the shadow of +Martinswand. Most people know, I should suppose, that the Martinswand is +that mountain in the Oberinnthal, where, several centuries past, brave +Kaiser Max lost his footing as he stalked the chamois, and fell upon a +ledge of rock, and stayed there, in mortal peril, for thirty hours, till +he was rescued by the strength and agility of a Tyrol hunter,--an angel +in the guise of a hunter, as the chronicles of the time prefer to say. + +The Martinswand is a grand mountain, being one of the spurs of the +greater Sonnstein, and rises precipitously, looming, massive and lofty, +like a very fortress for giants, where it stands right across that +road which, if you follow it long enough, takes you through Zell to +Landeck,--old, picturesque, poetic Landeck, where Frederick of the +Empty Pockets rhymed his sorrows in ballads to his people,--and so on by +Bludenz into Switzerland itself, by as noble a highway as any traveller +can ever desire to traverse on a summer's day. It is within a mile +of the little burg of Zell, where the people, in the time of their +emperor's peril, came out with torches and bells, and the Host lifted +up by their priest, and all prayed on their knees underneath the steep, +gaunt pile of limestone, that is the same today as it was then, whilst +Kaiser Max is dust; it soars up on one side of this road, very steep and +very majestic, having bare stone at its base, and being all along its +summit crowned with pine woods; and on the other side of the road are +a little stone church, quaint and low, and gray with age, and a stone +farmhouse, and cattle-sheds, and timber-sheds, all of wood that is +darkly brown from time; and beyond these are some of the most beautiful +meadows in the world, full of tall grass and countless flowers, with +pools and little estuaries made by the brimming Inn River that flows +by them; and beyond the river are the glaciers of the Sonnstein and the +Selrain and the wild Arlberg region, and the golden glow of sunset in +the west, most often seen from here through the veil of falling rain. + +At this farmhouse, with Martinswand towering above it, and Zell a mile +beyond, there lived, and lives still, a little boy who bears the old +historical name of Findelkind, whose father, Otto Korner, is the last +of a sturdy race of yeomen, who had fought with Hofer and Haspinger, and +had been free men always. + +Findelkind came in the middle of seven other children, and was a pretty +boy of nine years, with slenderer limbs and paler cheeks than his rosy +brethren, and tender dreamy eyes that had the look, his mother told him, +of seeking stars in midday: de chercher midi a quatorze heures, as the +French have it. He was a good little lad, and seldom gave any trouble +from disobedience, though he often gave it from forgetfulness. His +father angrily complained that he was always in the clouds,--that is, he +was always dreaming, and so very often would spill the milk out of the +pails, chop his own fingers instead of the wood, and stay watching the +swallows when he was sent to draw water. His brothers and sisters were +always making fun of him; they were sturdier, ruddier, and merrier +children than he was, loved romping and climbing, and nutting, thrashing +the walnut-trees and sliding down snow-drifts, and got into mischief of +a more common and childish sort than Findelkind's freaks of fancy. For, +indeed, he was a very fanciful little boy: everything around had tongues +for him; and he would sit for hours among the long rushes on the river's +edge, trying to imagine what the wild green-gray water had found in its +wanderings, and asking the water-rats and the ducks to tell him about +it; but both rats and ducks were too busy to attend to an idle little +boy, and never spoke, which vexed him. + +Findelkind, however, was very fond of his books: he would study day and +night, in his little ignorant, primitive fashion. He loved his missal +and his primer, and could spell them both out very fairly, and was +learning to write of a good priest in Zirl, where he trotted three times +a week with his two little brothers. When not at school, he was chiefly +set to guard the sheep and the cows, which occupation left him very much +to himself, so that he had many hours in the summer-time to stare up to +the skies and wonder--wonder--wonder about all sorts of things; while in +the winter--the long, white, silent winter, when the post-wagons ceased +to run, and the road into Switzerland was blocked, and the whole world +seemed asleep, except for the roaring of the winds--Findelkind, who +still trotted over the snow to school in Zirl, would dream still, +sitting on the wooden settle by the fire, when he came home again under +Martinswand. For the worst--or the best--of it all was that he was +Findelkind. + +This is what was always haunting him. He was Findelkind; and to bear +this name seemed to him to mark him out from all other children, and to +dedicate him to heaven. One day, three years before, when he had been +only six years old, the priest in Zirl, who was a very kindly and +cheerful man, and amused the children as much as he taught them, had not +allowed Findelkind to leave school to go home, because the storm of snow +and wind was so violent, but had kept him until the worst should pass, +with one or two other little lads who lived some way off, and had let +the boys roast a meal of apples and chestnuts by the stove in his little +room, and, while the wind howled and the blinding snow fell without, +had told the children the story of another Findelkind,--an earlier +Findelkind, who had lived in the flesh on Arlberg as far back as 1381, +and had been a little shepherd lad, "just like you," said the good man, +looking at the little boys munching their roast crabs, and whose country +had been over there, above Stuben, where Danube and Rhine meet and part. + +The pass of Arlberg is even still so bleak and bitter that few care to +climb there; the mountains around are drear and barren, and snow lies +till midsummer, and even longer sometimes. "But in the early ages," said +the priest (and this is quite a true tale that the children heard with +open eyes, and mouths only not open because they were full of crabs and +chestnuts), "in the early ages," said the priest to them, "the Arlberg +was far more dreary than it is now. There was only a mule-track over +it, and no refuge for man or beast; so that wanderers and peddlers, and +those whose need for work or desire for battle brought them over that +frightful pass, perished in great numbers, and were eaten by the bears +and the wolves. The little shepherd boy Findelkind--who was a little +boy five hundred years ago, remember," the priest repeated--"was sorely +disturbed and distressed to see these poor dead souls in the snow winter +after winter, and seeing the blanched bones lie on the bare earth, +unburied, when summer melted the snow. It made him unhappy, very +unhappy; and what could he do, he a little boy keeping sheep? He had as +his wages two florins a year; that was all; but his heart rose high, and +he had faith in God. Little as he was, he said to himself he would try +and do something, so that year after year those poor lost travellers and +beasts should not perish so. He said nothing to anybody, but he took the +few florins he had saved up, bade his master farewell, and went on his +way begging,--a little fourteenth century boy, with long, straight hair, +and a girdled tunic, as you see them," continued the priest, "in the +miniatures in the black-letter missal that lies upon my desk. No doubt +heaven favoured him very strongly, and the saints watched over him; +still, without the boldness of his own courage, and the faith in his own +heart, they would not have done so. I suppose, too, that when knights in +their armour, and soldiers in their camps, saw such a little fellow all +alone, they helped him, and perhaps struck some blows for him, and +so sped him on his way, and protected him from robbers and from wild +beasts. Still, be sure that the real shield and the real reward that +served Findelkind of Arlberg was the pure and noble purpose that armed +him night and day. Now, history does not tell us where Findelkind went, +nor how he fared, nor how long he was about it; but history does tell +us that the little barefooted, long-haired boy, knocking so loudly at +castle gates and city walls in the name of Christ and Christ's poor +brethren, did so well succeed in his quest that before long he had +returned to his mountain home with means to have a church and a rude +dwelling built, where he lived with six other brave and charitable +souls, dedicating themselves to St. Christopher, and going out night +and day to the sound of the Angelus, seeking the lost and weary. This +is really what Findelkind of Arlberg did five centuries ago, and did +so quickly that his fraternity of St. Christopher, twenty years after, +numbered among its members archdukes, and prelates, and knights without +number, and lasted as a great order down to the days of Joseph II. This +is what Findelkind in the fourteenth century did, I tell you. Bear +like faith in your hearts, my children; and though your generation is +a harder one than this, because it is without faith, yet you shall move +mountains, because Christ and St. Christopher will be with you." + +Then the good man, having said that, blessed them, and left them alone +to their chestnuts and crabs, and went into his own oratory to prayer. +The other boys laughed and chattered; but Findelkind sat very quietly, +thinking of his namesake, all the day after, and for many days and weeks +and months this story haunted him. A little boy had done all that; +and this little boy had been called Findelkind: Findelkind, just like +himself. + +It was beautiful, and yet it tortured him. If the good man had known +how the history would root itself in the child's mind, perhaps he would +never have told it; for night and day it vexed Findelkind, and yet +seemed beckoning to him and crying, "Go thou and do likewise!" + +But what could he do? + +There was the snow, indeed, and there were the mountains, as in the +fourteenth century, but there were no travellers lost. The diligence did +not go into Switzerland after autumn, and the country people who went +by on their mules and in their sledges to Innspruck knew their way very +well, and were never likely to be adrift on a winter's night, or eaten +by a wolf or a bear. + +When spring came, Findelkind sat by the edge of the bright pure water +among the flowering grasses, and felt his heart heavy. Findelkind of +Arlberg who was in heaven now must look down, he fancied, and think him +so stupid and so selfish, sitting there. The first Findelkind, a few +centuries before, had trotted down on his bare feet from his mountain +pass, and taken his little crook, and gone out boldly over all the +land on his pilgrimage, and knocked at castle gates and city walls +in Christ's name, and for love of the poor! That was to do something +indeed! + +This poor little living Findelkind would look at the miniatures in the +priest's missal, in one of which there was the little fourteenth-century +boy, with long hanging hair and a wallet and bare feet, and he never +doubted that it was the portrait of the blessed Findelkind who was in +heaven; and he wondered if he looked like a little boy there, or if he +were changed to the likeness of an angel. + +"He was a boy just like me," thought the poor little fellow, and he felt +so ashamed of himself,--so very ashamed; and the priest had told him +to try and do the same. He brooded over it so much, and it made him so +anxious and so vexed, that his brothers ate his porridge and he did +not notice it, his sisters pulled his curls and he did not feel it, his +father brought a stick down on his back, and he only started and stared, +and his mother cried because he was losing his mind, and would grow +daft, and even his mother's tears he scarcely saw. He was always +thinking of Findelkind in heaven. + +When he went for water, he spilt one-half; when he did his lessons, he +forgot the chief part; when he drove out the cow, he let her munch the +cabbages; and when he was set to watch the oven he let the loaves burn, +like great Alfred. He was always busied thinking, "Little Findelkind +that is in heaven did so great a thing: why may not I? I ought! I +ought!" What was the use of being named after Findelkind that was in +heaven, unless one did something great, too? + +Next to the church there is a little stone lodge, or shed, with two +arched openings, and from it you look into the tiny church, with its +crucifixes and relics, or out to great, bold, sombre Martinswand, as you +like best; and in this spot Findelkind would sit hour after hour while +his brothers and sisters were playing, and look up at the mountains or +on to the altar, and wish and pray and vex his little soul most wofully; +and his ewes and his lambs would crop the grass about the entrance, and +bleat to make him notice them and lead them farther afield, but all in +vain. Even his dear sheep he hardly heeded, and his pet ewes, Katte +and Greta, and the big ram Zips, rubbed their soft noses in his hand +unnoticed. So the summer droned away,--the summer that is so short +in the mountains, and yet so green and so radiant, with the torrents +tumbling through the flowers, and the hay tossing in the meadows, and +the lads and lasses climbing to cut the rich, sweet grass of the alps. +The short summer passed as fast as a dragon-fly flashes by, all green +and gold, in the sun; and it was near winter once more, and still +Findelkind was always dreaming and wondering what he could do for the +good of St. Christopher; and the longing to do it all came more and more +into his little heart, and he puzzled his brain till his head ached. One +autumn morning, whilst yet it was dark, Findelkind made his mind up, and +rose before his brothers, and stole down-stairs and out into the air, +as it was easy to do, because the house-door never was bolted. He had +nothing with him; he was barefooted, and his school-satchel was slung +behind him, as Findelkind of Arlberg's wallet had been five centuries +before. + +He took a little staff from the piles of wood lying about, and went out +on to the highroad, on his way to do heaven's will. He was not very +sure what that divine will wished, but that was because he was only +nine years old, and not very wise; but Findelkind that was in heaven had +begged for the poor; so would he. + +His parents were very poor, but he did not think of them as in any want +at any time, because he always had his bowlful of porridge and as much +bread as he wanted to eat. This morning he had nothing to eat; he wished +to be away before any one could question him. + +It was quite dusk in the fresh autumn morning. The sun had not risen +behind the glaciers of the Stubaithal, and the road was scarcely seen; +but he knew it very well, and he set out bravely, saying his prayers to +Christ, and to St. Christopher, and to Findelkind that was in heaven. + +He was not in any way clear as to what he would do, but he thought he +would find some great thing to do somewhere, lying like a jewel in the +dust; and he went on his way in faith, as Findelkind of Arlberg had done +before him. + +His heart beat high, and his head lost its aching pains, and his feet +felt light; so light as if there were wings to his ankles. He would not +go to Zirl, because Zirl he knew so well, and there could be nothing +very wonderful waiting there; and he ran fast the other way. When he was +fairly out from under the shadow of Martinswand, he slackened his pace, +and saw the sun come on his path, and the red day redden the gray-green +water, and the early Stellwagen from Landeck, that had been lumbering +along all the night, overtook him. + +He would have run after it, and called out to the travellers for alms, +but he felt ashamed. His father had never let him beg, and he did not +know how to begin. + +The Stellwagen rolled on through the autumn mud, and that was one chance +lost. He was sure that the first Findelkind had not felt ashamed when he +had knocked at the first castle gates. + +By and by, when he could not see Martinswand by turning his head back +ever so, he came to an inn that used to be a post-house in the old days +when men travelled only by road. A woman was feeding chickens in the +bright clear red of the cold daybreak. + +Findelkind timidly held out his hand. "For the poor!" he murmured, and +doffed his cap. + +The old woman looked at him sharply. "Oh, is it you, little Findelkind? +Have you run off from school? Be off with you home! I haves mouths +enough to feed here." + +Findelkind went away, and began to learn that it is not easy to be a +prophet or a hero in one's own country. + +He trotted a mile farther, and met nothing. At last he came to some cows +by the wayside, and a man tending them. + +"Would you give me something to help make a monastery?" he said, +timidly, and once more took off his cap. The man gave a great laugh. "A +fine monk, you! And who wants more of these lazy drones? Not I." + +Findelkind never answered: he remembered the priest had said that the +years he lived in were very hard ones, and men in them had no faith. + +Ere long he came to a big walled house, with turrets and grated +casements,--very big it looked to him,--like one of the first +Findelkind's own castles. His heart beat loud against his side, but he +plucked up his courage, and knocked as loud as his heart was beating. + +He knocked and knocked, but no answer came. The house was empty. But he +did not know that; he thought it was that the people within were cruel, +and he went sadly onward with the road winding before him, and on his +right the beautiful impetuous gray river, and on his left the green +Mittelgebirge and the mountains that rose behind it. By this time the +day was up; the sun was glowing on the red of the cranberry shrubs, and +the blue of the bilberry-boughs: he was hungry and thirsty and tired. +But he did not give in for that; he held on steadily; he knew that there +was near, somewhere near, a great city that the people called Sprugg, +and thither he had resolved to go. By noontide he had walked eight +miles, and came to a green place where men were shooting at targets, the +tall, thick grass all around them; and a little way farther off was +a train of people chanting and bearing crosses, and dressed in long +flowing robes. + +The place was the Hottinger Au, and the day was Saturday, and the +village was making ready to perform a miracle-play on the morrow. + +Findelkind ran to the robed singing-folk, quite sure that he saw the +people of God. "Oh, take me, take me!" he cried to them; "do take me +with you to do heaven's work." + +But they pushed him aside for a crazy little boy that spoiled their +rehearsing. + +"It is only for Hotting folk," said a lad older than himself. "Get +out of the way with you, Liebchen." And the man who carried the cross +knocked him with force on the head, by mere accident; but Findelkind +thought he had meant it. + +Were people so much kinder five centuries before, he wondered, and felt +sad as the many-coloured robes swept on through the grass, and the crack +of the rifles sounded sharply through the music of the chanting voices. +He went on, footsore and sorrowful, thinking of the castle doors that +had opened, and the city gates that had unclosed, at the summons of the +little long-haired boy whose figure was painted on the missal. + +He had come now to where the houses were much more numerous, though +under the shade of great trees,--lovely old gray houses, some of wood, +some of stone, some with frescoes on them and gold and colour and +mottoes, some with deep barred casements, and carved portals, and +sculptured figures; houses of the poorer people now, but still memorials +of a grand and gracious time. For he had wandered into the quarter +of St. Nicholas in this fair mountain city, which he, like his +country-folk, called Sprugg, though the government calls it Innspruck. + +He got out upon a long, gray, wooden bridge, and looked up and down the +reaches of the river, and thought to himself, maybe this was not Sprugg +but Jerusalem, so beautiful it looked with its domes shining golden in +the sun, and the snow of the Soldstein and Branjoch behind them. For +little Findelkind had never come so far as this before. As he stood on +the bridge so dreaming, a hand clutched him, and a voice said: + +"A whole kreutzer, or you do not pass!" + +Findelkind started and trembled. + +A kreutzer! he had never owned such a treasure in all his life. + +"I have no money!" he murmured, timidly, "I came to see if I could get +money for the poor." + +The keeper of the bridge laughed. + +"You are a little beggar, you mean? Oh, very well! Then over my bridge +you do not go. + +"But it is the city on the other side?" + +"To be sure it is the city; but over nobody goes without a kreutzer." + +"I never have such a thing of my own! never! never!" said Findelkind, +ready to cry. + +"Then you were a little fool to come away from your home, wherever that +may be," said the man at the bridge-head. "Well, I will let you go, for +you look a baby. But do not beg; that is bad." + +"Findelkind did it!" + +"Then Findelkind was a rogue and a vagabond," said the taker of tolls. + +"Oh, no--no--no!" + +"Oh, yes--yes--yes, little sauce-box; and take that," said the man, +giving him a box on the ear, being angry at contradiction. + +Findelkind's head drooped, and he went slowly over the bridge, +forgetting that he ought to have thanked the toll-taker for a free +passage. The world seemed to him very difficult. How had Findelkind done +when he had come to bridges?--and, oh, how had Findelkind done when he +had been hungry? + +For this poor little Findelkind was getting very hungry, and his stomach +was as empty as was his wallet. + +A few steps brought him to the Goldenes Dachl. + +He forgot his hunger and his pain, seeing the sun shine on all that +gold, and the curious painted galleries under it. He thought it was real +solid gold. Real gold laid out on a house-roof,--and the people all so +poor! Findelkind began to muse, and wonder why everybody did not climb +up there and take a tile off and be rich? But perhaps it would be +wicked. Perhaps God put the roof there with all that gold to prove +people. Findelkind got bewildered. + +If God did such a thing, was it kind? + +His head seemed to swim, and the sunshine went round and round with +him. There went by him, just then, a very venerable-looking old man with +silver hair; he was wrapped in a long cloak. Findelkind pulled at the +coat gently, and the old man looked down. + +"What is it, my boy?" he asked. + +Findelkind answered, "I came out to get gold: may I take it off that +roof?" + +"It is not gold, child, it is gilding." + +"What is gilding?" + +"It is a thing made to look like gold; that is all." + +"It is a lie, then!" + +The old man smiled. "Well, nobody thinks so. If you like to put it so, +perhaps it is. What do you want gold for, you wee thing?" + +"To build a monastery, and house the poor." + +The old man's face scowled and grew dark, for he was a Lutheran pastor +from Bavaria. + +"Who taught you such trash?" he said, crossly. + +"It is not trash. It is faith." + +And Findelkind's face began to burn, and his blue eyes to darken and +moisten. There was a little crowd beginning to gather, and the crowd was +beginning to laugh. There were many soldiers and rifle-shooters in the +throng, and they jeered and joked, and made fun of the old man in +the long cloak, who grew angry then with the child. "You are a little +idolater and a little impudent sinner!" he said, wrathfully, and shook +the boy by the shoulder, and went away, and the throng that had gathered +around had only poor Findelkind left to tease. + +He was a very poor little boy indeed to look at, with his sheepskin +tunic, and his bare feet and legs, and his wallet that never was to get +filled. + +"Where do you come from, and what do you want?" they asked; and he +answered, with a sob in his voice: + +"I want to do like Findelkind of Arlberg." + +And then the crowd laughed, not knowing at all what he meant, but +laughing just because they did not know, as crowds always will do. And +only the big dogs that are so very big in this country, and are all +loose, and free, and good-natured citizens, came up to him kindly, and +rubbed against him, and made friends; and at that tears came into his +eyes, and his courage rose, and he lifted his head. + +"You are cruel people to laugh," he said, indignantly; "the dogs are +kinder. People did not laugh at Findelkind. He was a little boy just +like me, no better and no bigger, and as poor, and yet he had so much +faith, and the world then was so good, that he left his sheep, and +got money enough to build a church and a hospice to Christ and St. +Christopher. And I want to do the same for the poor. Not for myself, no; +for the poor! I am Findelkind too, and Findelkind of Arlberg that is in +heaven speaks to me." + +Then he stopped, and a sob rose again in his throat. + +"He is crazy!" said the people, laughing, yet a little scared; for the +priest at Zirl had said rightly, this is not an age of faith. At that +moment there sounded, coming from the barracks, that used to be the +Schloss in the old days of Kaiser Max and Mary of Burgundy, the sound +of drums and trumpets and the tramp of marching feet. It was one of the +corps of Jagers of Tyrol, going down from the avenue to the Rudolfplatz, +with their band before them and their pennons streaming. It was a +familiar sight, but it drew the street-throngs to it like magic: the +age is not fond of dreamers, but it is very fond of drums. In almost +a moment the old dark arcades and the river-side and the passages near +were all empty, except for the women sitting at their stalls of fruit +or cakes, or toys. They are wonderful old arched arcades, like the +cloisters of a cathedral more than anything else, and the shops under +them are all homely and simple,--shops of leather, of furs, of clothes, +of wooden playthings, of sweet and wholesome bread. They are very +quaint, and kept by poor folks for poor folks; but to the dazed eyes of +Findelkind they looked like a forbidden paradise, for he was so hungry +and so heart-broken, and he had never seen any bigger place than little +Zirl. + +He stood and looked wistfully, but no one offered him anything. Close +by was a stall of splendid purple grapes, but the old woman that kept it +was busy knitting. She only called to him to stand out of her light. + +"You look a poor brat; have you a home?" said another woman, who sold +bridles and whips and horses' bells, and the like. + +"Oh, yes, I have a home,--by Martinswand," said Findelkind, with a sigh. + +The woman looked at him sharply. "Your parents have sent you on an +errand here?" + +"No; I have run away." + +"Run away? Oh, you bad boy!--unless, indeed,--are they cruel to you?" + +"No; very good." + +"Are you a little rogue, then, or a thief?" + +"You are a bad woman to think such things," said Findelkind, hotly, +knowing himself on how innocent and sacred a quest he was. + +"Bad? I? Oh, ho!" said the old dame, cracking one of her new whips in +the air, "I should like to make you jump about with this, you thankless +little vagabond. Be off!" + +Findelkind sighed again, his momentary anger passing; for he had been +born with a gentle temper, and thought himself to blame much more +readily than he thought other people were,--as, indeed, every wise child +does, only there are so few children--or men--that are wise. + +He turned his head away from the temptation of the bread and fruit +stalls, for in truth hunger gnawed him terribly, and wandered a little +to the left. From where he stood he could see the long, beautiful street +of Teresa, with its oriels and arches, painted windows and gilded signs, +and the steep, gray, dark mountains closing it in at the distance; but +the street frightened him, it looked so grand, and he knew it would +tempt him; so he went where he saw the green tops of some high elms and +beeches. The trees, like the dogs, seemed like friends. It was the human +creatures that were cruel. + +At that moment there came out of the barrack gates, with great noise +of trumpets and trampling of horses, a group of riders in gorgeous +uniforms, with sabres and chains glancing and plumes tossing. It looked +to Findelkind like a group of knights,--those knights who had helped and +defended his namesake with their steel and their gold in the old days +of the Arlberg quest. His heart gave a great leap, and he jumped on the +dust for joy, and he ran forward and fell on his knees and waved his cap +like a little mad thing, and cried out: + +"Oh, dear knights! oh, great soldiers! help me! Fight for me, for the +love of the saints! I have come all the way from Martinswand, and I am +Findelkind, and I am trying to serve St. Christopher like Findelkind of +Arlberg." + +But his little swaying body and pleading hands and shouting voice and +blowing curls frightened the horses; one of them swerved and very nearly +settled the woes of Findelkind for ever and aye by a kick. The soldier +who rode the horse reined him in with difficulty. He was at the head +of the little staff, being indeed no less or more than the general +commanding the garrison, which in this city is some fifteen thousand +strong. An orderly sprang from his saddle and seized the child, and +shook him, and swore at him. Findelkind was frightened; but he shut his +eyes and set his teeth, and said to himself that the martyrs must have +had very much worse than these things to suffer in their pilgrimage. He +had fancied these riders were knights, such knights as the priest had +shown him the likeness of in old picture-books, whose mission it had +been to ride through the world succouring the weak and weary, and always +defending the right. + +"What are your swords for, if you are not knights?" he cried, +desperately struggling in his captor's grip, and seeing through his +half-closed lids the sunshine shining on steel scabbards. + +"What does he want?" asked the officer in command of the garrison, whose +staff all this bright and martial array was. He was riding out from the +barracks to an inspection on the Rudolfplatz. He was a young man, and +had little children himself, and was half amused, half touched, to see +the tiny figure of the little dusty boy. + +"I want to build a monastery, like Findelkind of Arlberg, and to help +the poor," said our Findelkind, valorously, though his heart was beating +like that of a little mouse caught in a trap; for the horses were +trampling up the dust around him, and the orderly's grip was hard. + +The officers laughed aloud; and indeed he looked a poor little scrap of +a figure, very ill able to help even himself. + +"Why do you laugh?" cried Findelkind, losing his terror in his +indignation, and inspired with the courage which a great earnestness +always gives. "You should not laugh. If you were true knights, you +would not laugh; you would fight for me. I am little, I know,--I am very +little,--but he was no bigger than I; and see what great things he did. +But the soldiers were good in those days; they did not laugh and use bad +words--" + +And Findelkind, on whose shoulder the orderly's hold was still fast, +faced the horses, which looked to him as huge as Martinswand, and the +swords, which he little doubted were to be sheathed in his heart. + +The officers stared, laughed again, then whispered together, and +Findelkind heard them say the word "crazed." Findelkind, whose quick +little ears were both strained like a mountain leveret's, understood +that the great men were saying among themselves that it was not safe for +him to be about alone, and that it would be kinder to him to catch and +cage him,--the general view with which the world regards enthusiasts. + +He heard, he understood; he knew that they did not mean to help him, +these men with the steel weapons and the huge steeds, but that they +meant to shut him up in a prison--he, little free-born, forest-fed +Findelkind. He wrenched himself out of the soldier's grip, as the rabbit +wrenches itself out of the jaws of the trap even at the cost of leaving +a limb behind, shot between the horses' legs, doubled like a hunted +thing, and spied a refuge. Opposite the avenue of gigantic poplars and +pleasant stretches of grass shaded by other bigger trees, there stands +a very famous church, famous alike in the annals of history and of +art,--the church of the Franciscans, that holds the tomb of Kaiser Max, +though, alas! it holds not his ashes, as his dying desire was that it +should. The church stands here, a noble, sombre place, with the Silver +Chapel of Philippina Wessler adjoining it, and in front the fresh cool +avenues that lead to the river and broad water-meadows and the grand +Hall road bordered with the painted stations of the Cross. + +There were some peasants coming in from the country driving cows, +and some burghers in their carts, with fat, slow horses; some little +children were at play under the poplars and the elms; great dogs were +lying about on the grass; everything was happy and at peace, except the +poor throbbing heart of little Findelkind, who thought the soldiers were +coming after him to lock him up as mad, and ran and ran as fast as his +trembling legs would carry him, making for sanctuary, as, in the old +bygone days that he loved, many a soul less innocent than his had done. +The wide doors of the Hofkirche stood open, and on the steps lay a +black-and-tan hound, watching no doubt for its master or mistress, who +had gone within to pray. Findelkind, in his terror, vaulted over the +dog, and into the church tumbled headlong. + +It seemed quite dark, after the brilliant sunshine on the river and the +grass; his forehead touched the stone floor as he fell, and as he raised +himself and stumbled forward, reverent and bareheaded, looking for +the altar to cling to when the soldiers should enter to seize him, his +uplifted eyes fell on the great tomb. + +The tomb seems entirely to fill the church, as, with its twenty-four +guardian figures around it, it towers up in the twilight that reigns +here even at midday. There are a stern majesty and grandeur in it which +dwarf every other monument and mausoleum. It is grim, it is rude, it +is savage, with the spirit of the rough ages that created it; but it +is great with their greatness, it is heroic with their heroism, it is +simple with their simplicity. + +As the awestricken eyes of the terrified child fell on the mass of stone +and bronze, the sight smote him breathless. The mailed warriors standing +around it, so motionless, so solemn, filled him with a frozen, nameless +fear. He had never a doubt that they were the dead arisen. The foremost +that met his eyes were Theodoric and Arthur; the next, grim Rudolf, +father of a dynasty of emperors. There, leaning on their swords, the +three gazed down on him, armoured, armed, majestic, serious, guarding +the empty grave, which to the child, who knew nothing of its history, +seemed a bier; and at the feet of Theodoric, who alone of them all +looked young and merciful, poor little desperate Findelkind fell with a +piteous sob, and cried, "I am not mad! Indeed, indeed, I am not mad!" + +He did not know that these grand figures were but statues of bronze. +He was quite sure they were the dead, arisen, and meeting there, around +that tomb on which the solitary kneeling knight watched and prayed, +encircled, as by a wall of steel, by these his comrades. He was not +frightened, he was rather comforted and stilled, as with a sudden sense +of some deep calm and certain help. + +Findelkind, without knowing that he was like so many dissatisfied poets +and artists much bigger than himself, dimly felt in his little tired +mind how beautiful and how gorgeous and how grand the world must +have been when heroes and knights like these had gone by in its daily +sunshine and its twilight storms. No wonder Findelkind of Arlberg had +found his pilgrimage so fair, when if he had needed any help he had +only had to kneel and clasp these firm, mailed limbs, these strong +cross-hilted swords, in the name of Christ and of the poor. + +Theodoric seemed to look down on him with benignant eyes from under the +raised visor; and our poor Findelkind, weeping, threw his small arms +closer and closer around the bronze knees of the heroic figure, and +sobbed aloud, "Help me, help me! Oh, turn the hearts of the people to +me, and help me to do good!" + +But Theodoric answered nothing. + +There was no sound in the dark, hushed church; the gloom grew darker +over Findelkind's eyes; the mighty forms of monarchs and of heroes grew +dim before his sight. He lost consciousness, and fell prone upon the +stones at Theodoric's feet; for he had fainted from hunger and emotion. + +When he awoke it was quite evening; there was a lantern held over his +head; voices were muttering curiously and angrily; bending over him were +two priests, a sacristan of the church, and his own father. His little +wallet lay by him on the stones, always empty. + +"Boy of mine! were you mad?" cried his father, half in rage, half in +tenderness. "The chase you have led me!--and your mother thinking you +were drowned!--and all the working day lost, running after old women's +tales of where they had seen you! Oh, little fool, little fool! What was +amiss with Martinswand, that you must leave it?" + +Findelkind slowly and feebly rose, and sat up on the pavement, and +looked up, not at his father, but at the knight Theodoric. + +"I thought they would help me to keep the poor," he muttered, feebly, as +he glanced at his own wallet. "And it is empty,--empty." + +"And are we not poor enough?" cried his father, with natural impatience, +ready to tear his hair with vexation at having such a little idiot for +a son. "Must you rove afield to find poverty to help, when it sits cold +enough, the Lord knows, at our own hearth? Oh, little ass, little dolt, +little maniac, fit only for a madhouse, talking to iron figures and +taking them for real men! What have I done, O heaven, that I should be +afflicted thus?" + +And the poor man wept, being a good affectionate soul, but not very +wise, and believing that his boy was mad. Then, seized with sudden rage +once more, at thought of his day all wasted, and its hours harassed and +miserable through searching for the lost child, he plucked up the light, +slight figure of Findelkind in his own arms, and, with muttered thanks +and excuses to the sacristan of the church, bore the boy out with him +into the evening air, and lifted him into a cart, which stood there with +a horse harnessed to one side of the pole, as the country-people love +to do, to the risk of their own lives and their neighbours'. Findelkind +said never a word; he was as dumb as Theodoric had been to him; he felt +stupid, heavy, half blind; his father pushed him some bread, and he ate +it by sheer instinct, as a lost animal will do; the cart jogged on, the +stars shone, the great church vanished in the gloom of night. + +As they went through the city toward the riverside along the homeward +way, never a word did his father, who was a silent man at all times, +address to him. Only once, as they jogged over the bridge, he spoke. + +"Son," he asked, "did you run away truly thinking to please God and help +the poor?" + +"Truly I did!" answered Findelkind, with a sob in his throat. + +"Then thou wert an ass!" said his father. "Didst never think of thy +mother's love and of my toil? Look at home." + +Findelkind was mute. The drive was very long, backward by the same way, +with the river shining in the moonlight, and the mountains half covered +with the clouds. + +It was ten by the bells of Zirl when they came once more under the +solemn shadow of grave Martinswand. There were lights moving about his +house, his brothers and sisters were still up, his mother ran out into +the road, weeping and laughing with fear and joy. + +Findelkind himself said nothing. + +He hung his head. + +They were too fond of him to scold him or to jeer at him; they made him +go quickly to his bed, and his mother made him a warm milk posset, and +kissed him. + +"We will punish thee tomorrow, naughty and cruel one," said his parent. +"But thou art punished enough already, for in thy place little Stefan +had the sheep, and he has lost Katte's lambs,--the beautiful twin lambs! +I dare not tell thy father tonight. Dost hear the poor thing mourn? Do +not go afield for thy duty again." + +A pang went through the heart of Findelkind, as if a knife had pierced +it. He loved Katte better than almost any other living thing, and +she was bleating under his window childless and alone. They were such +beautiful lambs, too!--lambs that his father had promised should never +be killed, but be reared to swell the flock. + +Findelkind cowered down in his bed, and felt wretched beyond all +wretchedness. He had been brought back; his wallet was empty; and +Katte's lambs were lost. He could not sleep. + +His pulses were beating like so many steam-hammers; he felt as if his +body were all one great throbbing heart. His brothers, who lay in the +same chamber with him, were sound asleep; very soon his father and +mother snored also, on the other side of the wall. Findelkind was alone +wide awake, watching the big white moon sail past his little casement, +and hearing Katte bleat. + +Where were her poor twin lambs? + +The night was bitterly cold, for it was already far on in autumn; the +rivers had swollen and flooded many fields, the snow for the last week +had fallen quite low down on the mountainsides. + +Even if still living, the little lambs would die, out on such a night +without the mother or food and shelter of any sort. Findelkind, whose +vivid brain always saw everything that he imagined as if it were being +acted before his eyes, in fancy saw his two dear lambs floating dead +down the swollen tide, entangled in rushes on the flooded shore, or +fallen with broken limbs upon a crest of rocks. He saw them so plainly +that scarcely could he hold back his breath from screaming aloud in the +still night and answering the mourning wail of the desolate mother. + +At last he could bear it no longer: his head burned, and his +brain seemed whirling round; at a bound he leaped out of bed quite +noiselessly, slid into his sheepskins, and stole out as he had done the +night before, hardly knowing what he did. Poor Katte was mourning in +the wooden shed with the other sheep, and the wail of her sorrow sounded +sadly across the loud roar of the rushing river. + +The moon was still high. + +Above, against the sky, black and awful with clouds floating over its +summit, was the great Martinswand. + +Findelkind this time called the big dog Waldmar to him, and, with the +dog beside him, went once more out into the cold and the gloom, whilst +his father and mother, his brothers and sisters, wore sleeping, and poor +childless Katte alone was awake. + +He looked up at the mountain and then across the water-swept meadows to +the river. He was in doubt which way to take. Then he thought that in +all likelihood the lambs would have been seen if they had wandered the +river way, and even little Stefan would have had too much sense to let +them go there. So he crossed the road and began to climb Martinswand. + +With the instinct of the born mountaineer, he had brought out his +crampons with him, and had now fastened them on his feet; he knew every +part and ridge of the mountains, and had more than once climbed over to +that very spot where Kaiser Max had hung in peril of his life. + +On second thoughts he bade Waldmar go back to the house. The dog was a +clever mountaineer, too, but Findelkind did not wish to lead him into +danger. "I have done the wrong, and I will bear the brunt," he said +to himself; for he felt as if he had killed Katte's children, and the +weight of the sin was like lead on his heart, and he would not kill good +Waldmar, too. + +His little lantern did not show much light, and as he went higher +upwards he lost sight of the moon. The cold was nothing to him, because +the clear still air was that in which he had been reared; and the +darkness he did not mind, because he was used to that also; but the +weight of sorrow upon him he scarcely knew how to bear, and how to +find two tiny lambs in this vast waste of silence and shadow would +have puzzled and wearied older minds than his. Garibaldi and all his +household, old soldiers tried and true, sought all night once upon +Caprera in such a quest, in vain. + +If he could only have awakened his brother Stefan to ask him which way +they had gone! but then, to be sure, he remembered, Stefan must have +told that to all those who had been looking for the lambs from sunset to +nightfall. All alone he began the ascent. + +Time and again, in the glad spring-time and the fresh summer weather, he +had driven his flock upwards to eat the grass that grew, in the clefts +of the rocks and on the broad green alps. The sheep could not climb to +the highest points; but the goats did, and he with them. Time and again +he had lain on his back in these uppermost heights, with the lower +clouds behind him and the black wings of the birds and the crows almost +touching his forehead, as he lay gazing up into the blue depth of the +sky, and dreaming, dreaming, dreaming. + +He would never dream any more now, he thought to himself. His dreams had +cost Katte her lambs, and the world of the dead Findelkind was gone for +ever: gone were all the heroes and knights; gone all the faith and the +force; gone every one who cared for the dear Christ and the poor in +pain. + +The bells of Zirl were ringing midnight. Findelkind heard, and wondered +that only two hours had gone by since his mother had kissed him in his +bed. It seemed to him as if long, long nights had rolled away, and he +had lived a hundred years. + +He did not feel any fear of the dark calm night, lit now and then by +silvery gleams of moon and stars. The mountain was his old familiar +friend, and the ways of it had no more terror for him than these hills +here used to have for the bold heart of Kaiser Max. Indeed, all he +thought of was Katte,--Katte and the lambs. He knew the way that the +sheep-tracks ran; the sheep could not climb so high as the goats; and he +knew, too, that little Stefan could not climb so high as he. So he began +his search low down upon Martinswand. + +After midnight the cold increased; there were snow-clouds hanging near, +and they opened over his head, and the soft snow came flying along. For +himself he did not mind it, but alas for the lambs!--if it covered them, +how would he find them? And if they slept in it, they were dead. + +It was bleak and bare on the mountain-side, though there were still +patches of grass such as the flocks liked, that had grown since the hay +was cut. The frost of the night made the stone slippery, and even the +irons gripped it with difficulty; and there was a strong wind rising +like a giant's breath, and blowing his small horn lantern to and fro. + +Now and then he quaked a little with fear,--not fear of the night or the +mountains, but of strange spirits and dwarfs and goblins of ill repute, +said to haunt Martinswand after nightfall. Old women had told him of +such things, though the priest always said that they were only foolish +tales, there being nothing on God's earth wicked save men and women who +had not clean hearts and hands. Findelkind believed the priest; still, +all alone on the side of the mountain with the snowflakes flying around +him, he felt a nervous thrill that made him tremble and almost turn +backward. Almost, but not quite; for he thought of Katte and the poor +little lambs lost--and perhaps dead--through his fault. + +The path went zigzag and was very steep; the Arolla pines swayed their +boughs in his face; stones that lay in his path unseen in the gloom +made him stumble. Now and then a large bird of the night flew by with a +rushing sound; the air grew so cold that all Martinswand might have +been turning to one huge glacier. All at once he heard through the +stillness--for there is nothing so still as a mountainside in snow--a +little pitiful bleat. All his terrors vanished; all his memories of +ghost-tales passed away; his heart gave a leap of joy; he was sure it +was the cry of the lambs. He stopped to listen more surely. He was now +many score of feet above the level of his home and of Zirl; he was, as +nearly as he could judge, half-way as high as where the cross in the +cavern marks the spot of the Kaiser's peril. The little bleat sounded +above him, very feeble and faint. + +Findelkind set his lantern down, braced himself up by drawing tighter +his old leathern girdle, set his sheepskin cap firm on his forehead, and +went toward the sound as far as he could judge that it might be. He was +out of the woods now; there were only a few straggling pines rooted here +and there in a mass of loose-lying rock and slate; so much he could tell +by the light of the lantern, and the lambs by the bleating, seemed still +above him. + +It does not, perhaps, seem very hard labour to hunt about by a dusky +light upon a desolate mountainside; but when the snow is falling +fast,--when the light is only a small circle, wavering, yellowish on +the white,--when around is a wilderness of loose stones and yawning +clefts,--when the air is ice and the hour is past midnight,--the task +is not a light one for a man; and Findelkind was a child, like that +Findelkind that was in heaven. + +Long, very long was his search; he grew hot and forgot all fear except a +spasm of terror lest his light should burn low and die out. The bleating +had quite ceased now, and there was not even a sigh to guide him; but he +knew that near him the lambs must be, and he did not waver or despair. + +He did not pray; praying in the morning had been no use; but he trusted +in God, and he laboured hard, toiling to and fro, seeking in every nook +and behind each stone, and straining every muscle and nerve, till the +sweat rolled in a briny dew off his forehead, and his curls dripped with +wet. At last, with a scream of joy, he touched some soft close wool that +gleamed white as the white snow. He knelt down on the ground, and peered +behind the stone by the full light of his lantern; there lay the little +lambs,--two little brothers, twin brothers, huddled close together, +asleep. Asleep? He was sure they were asleep, for they were so silent +and still. + +He bowed over them, and kissed them, and laughed, and cried, and kissed +them again. Then a sudden horror smote him; they were so very still. +There they lay, cuddled close, one on another, one little white head on +each little white body,--drawn closer than ever together, to try and get +warm. + +He called to them, he touched them, then he caught them up in his arms, +and kissed them again, and again, and again. Alas! they were frozen and +dead. Never again would they leap in the long green grass, and frisk +with each other, and lie happy by Katte's side; they had died calling +for their mother, and in the long, cold, cruel night, only death had +answered. + +Findelkind did not weep, or scream, or tremble; his heart seemed frozen, +like the dead lambs. + +It was he who had killed them. + +He rose up and gathered them in his arms, and cuddled them in the skirts +of his sheepskin tunic, and cast his staff away that he might carry +them, and so, with their weight, set his face to the snow and the wind +once more, and began his downward way. + +Once a great sob shook him; that was all. Now he had no fear. + +The night might have been noonday, the snow-storm might have been +summer, for aught that he knew or cared. + +Long and weary was the way, and often he stumbled and had to rest; often +the terrible sleep of the snow lay heavy on his eyelids, and he longed +to lie down and be at rest, as the little brothers were; often it seemed +to him that he would never reach home again. But he shook the lethargy +off him, and resisted the longing, and held on his way; he knew that his +mother would mourn for him as Katte mourned for the lambs. At length, +through all difficulty and danger, when his light had spent itself, and +his strength had well-nigh spent itself too, his feet touched the old +highroad. There were flickering torches and many people, and loud cries +around the church, as there had been four hundred years before, when the +last sacrament had been said in the valley for the hunter-king in peril +above. + +His mother, being sleepless and anxious, had risen long before it was +dawn, and had gone to the children's chamber, and had found the bed of +Findelkind empty once more. + +He came into the midst of the people with the two little lambs in his +arms, and he heeded neither the outcries of neighbours nor the frenzied +joy of his mother; his eyes looked straight before him, and his face was +white like the snow. + +"I killed them," he said, and then two great tears rolled down his +cheeks and fell on the little cold bodies of the two little dead +brothers. + +Findelkind was very ill for many nights and many days after that. + +Whenever he spoke in his fever he always said, "I killed them!" + +Never anything else. + +So the dreary winter months went by, while the deep snow filled up lands +and meadows, and covered the great mountains from summit to base, and +all around Martinswand was quite still, and now and then the post went +by to Zirl, and on the holy-days the bells tolled; that was all. His +mother sat between the stove and his bed with a sore heart; and his +father, as he went to and fro between the walls of beaten snow from the +wood-shed to the cattle-byre, was sorrowful, thinking to himself the +child would die, and join that earlier Findelkind whose home was with +the saints. + +But the child did not die. + +He lay weak and wasted and almost motionless a long time; but slowly, as +the springtime drew near, and the snows on the lower hills loosened, and +the abounding waters coursed green and crystal clear down all the sides +of the hills, Findelkind revived as the earth did, and by the time the +new grass was springing, and the first blue of the gentian gleamed on +the alps, he was well. + +But to this day he seldom plays and scarcely ever laughs. His face is +sad, and his eyes have a look of trouble. + +Sometimes the priest of Zirl says of him to others, "He will be a great +poet or a great hero some day." Who knows? + +Meanwhile, in the heart of the child there remains always a weary pain, +that lies on his childish life as a stone may lie on a flower. + +"I killed them!" he says often to himself, thinking of the two little +white brothers frozen to death on Martinswand that cruel night; and +he does the things that are told him, and is obedient, and tries to be +content with the humble daily duties that are his lot, and when he says +his prayers at bedtime always ends them so: + +"Dear God, do let the little lambs play with the other Findelkind that +is in heaven." + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Findelkind, by Louise de la Ramee (AKA Ouida) + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1367 *** |