On the Seaboard. August Strindberg

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ as a horizontal surface, because the long breakers were fully lighted by the sun and cast no shadows from which the eye could form a perspective image.

      He arose, and partly dressing himself opened the window. The raw, moist air in the chamber rushed out, and from the sea came a warm green-house air, warmed several hours by the radiant May sun. Below the window he saw only low, jagged rocks in the crevices of which lay small dusty drifts of snow, and near by bloomed small white rye-flowers, well protected in beds of moss, and the poor wild pansies, pale yellow as from famine, and blue as from chill, hoisting their poor country's poor colors to the first spring sun. Lower down crept the heath and the crowberry vine, looking down over the precipice, below which lay a windrow of white sand, pulverized by the sea, and in which were stuck scattered sand-oat stalks; then came the kelp belt as a dark sash or braid on the white sand, highest up it was almost ivory black from last year's kelp in which were sticking shells, leaves of fir, twigs, fish bones, and toward the sea it was olive-brown from the last fresh kelp, which with its curled and knotted fronds formed a garniture like a chenille cord. Inside on the sandy side walk lay the top of a barkless pine, sand scrubbed, washed by the water, polished by the wind, bleached by the sun, resembling the ribs of a mammoth skeleton, and around it a whole osteologist's museum of like skeletons or fragments of the same.

      A beacon, which had shown ships the way for years, lay thrown up, and with its thick end looked like the thigh bone and condyle of a giraffe; in another place a juniper shrub, like the carcass of a drowned cat, with its white small roots stretching out for the tail.

      Outside the strand lay reefs and rocks which one moment glanced wet in the sunshine, the next were submerged by the swell which passed over them with a splash, or if it had not sufficient power, rose, burst, and threw a water-fall of foam into the air.

      Outside the island lay the shining sea, that great flat, as the fishermen called it, and now in the morning hour it stretched like a blue canvas without a wrinkle but undulating like a flag. The big round surface would have been tiresome had not a red buoy been anchored outside the reef, and brightened up the monotony of the surface with its minium spot like the seal on a letter.

      This was the sea, certainly nothing new to Commissioner Borg who had seen several corners of the world. Still it was the desolate sea seen as it were in a tête-à-tête. It did not terrify like the forest with its gloomy hiding places, it was quieting like an open, big, faithful blue eye. Everything could be seen at once, no ambush, no lurking place. It flattered the spectator when he saw this circle round him, where he himself ever remained the center. The big water surface was as a corporeity radiating from the beholder existing only in and with the beholder. As long as he stood on shore, he felt himself intimate with the now harmless power and superior to its enormous might, for he was beyond its reach. When he reminded himself of the dangers he had undergone the evening before, the agony and wrath he had endured in his combat against this brutal enemy, which he had succeeded in eluding, he smiled in magnanimity toward the vanquished and beaten foe, which was after all only a blind tool at the wind's service, and was now stretching itself out to resume its rest in the sunlight.

      This was East Skerries, the classical, for they have their old history, have lived long, flourished, and declined, the old East Skerries that in the Middle Ages were a great fishing port where that important article stromling was caught, and for which a special law of guild was given and is still maintained up to to-day. The stromling serve the same purpose in middle Sweden and Norrland as the herring does on the west coast and in Norway, being only a kind of herring, a product of the Baltic Sea, and suited to its small resources. It was sought during the time when herring were scarce and dear, and less sought after when they were plentiful. It has been for ages the winter food for middle Sweden, and was eaten so continually that a song is still preserved from the days of Queen Christina's enticing Frenchmen into the country, who complained of the eternal hard bread and infinite stromling. A man's age ago the great land-owners paid their laborers' wages in natural products which consisted mostly of herring; after herring-fishing declined they substituted salt stromling. The price rose and the fishing which previously had been managed moderately and for domestic use, now became an eager speculation. The shoals of the East Skerries which are the richest on the coast of Sodermanland, began to be used on a large scale, the fish were disturbed during spawning time, the meshes of the nets were made closer and closer, and as a natural consequence the fish diminished, not so much from extermination perhaps as from the fact that they left their former spawning places and sought the depths where as yet no fisherman has had the resolution to search for the flown prey.

      The learned puzzled long with investigations over the cause of the diminution of the stromling supply, but the Academy of Agriculture took the initiative, by appointing skillful fish commissioners, both to learn the cause and find a remedy.

      This was now Commissioner Borg's mission at the East Skerries for the summer. The place was not lively as the Skerries are not situated on one of the main courses to Stockholm. The big vessels from the south usually pass by Landsort, Dalaro and Vaxholm, those from the east, and during certain winds, even those from the south, seek passage by Sandham and Vaxholm, while the merchants' vessels from Norrland and Finland pass between Furusund and Vaxholm.

      The eastern route is mostly used in case of necessity by the Esthonians, who as a rule come from south-east, and by others in case of wind, current and storm, who lie over at Landsort and Sandham. Therefore the place has only a third-class custom house station under one surveyor, and a little department of pilots who are under control of Dalaro.

      It is the end of the world—quiet, still, abandoned, except during fishing time, fall and spring, and if there comes only a single pleasure yacht during mid-summer it is greeted as an apparition from a lighter, gayer world; but fish commissioner Borg, who had come on another errand—to "spy," as the people called it—was greeted with a noticeable coolness which had found its first utterance in the indifference of the past evening and now took its expression in a miserable and cold coffee which was brought to his chamber.

      Although gifted with a keen sense of taste, he had acquired through strong exercise an ability to restrain unpleasant perceptions, therefore he swallowed the drink at a draught and arising went down to see his environment and greet the people.

      When he passed the custom-house man's cottage everything was hushed and it seemed as though the occupants would make themselves invisible —they shut the doors, and stopped talking in order not to be betrayed.

      With this unpleasant impression of being unwelcome, he continued his promenade out on the rock and came down to the harbor. There was a group of small huts all of the simplest construction just as though piled from pickings of stone shingles with a little smattering of mortar here and there; the chimney alone was of brick, rising above the fireplace. At one corner was a patched-up wooden addition for storage, at another only a shed of driftwood and twigs, a harbor for swine, which were shipped here during the fishing season for fattening. The windows seemed to have been taken from shipwrecks, and the roof was covered with everything that had length and width, and would absorb or shed rain—kelp, sand-oats, moss, peat, earth. These were the shelters now standing deserted, each of which housed about twenty sleepers during the big fishing season, when every hut was a kitchen bar.

      Outside the most prominent shanty stood the head man of the island, fisherman Oman, scratching out a flounder net with a whip. He did not in the least consider himself beneath a fish commissioner, nevertheless he felt a pressure from this presence and bristling up, prepared to answer sharply.

      "Is the fishing good?" greeted the instructor.

      "Not yet, but it may be now that the government has come to do it," answered Oman impolitely.

      "Where do the stromling shoals lie?" asked the commissioner, relinquishing the government to its fate.

      "Oh! we thought the instructor knew СКАЧАТЬ