In eleven long years John Bergson had made but little impression upon the wild land he had come to tame. It was still a wild thing that had its ugly moods; and no one knew when they were likely to come, or why. Mischance hung over it. Its Genius was unfriendly to man. The sick man was feeling this as he lay looking out of the window, after the doctor had left him, on the day following Alexandra’s trip to town. There it lay outside his door, the same land, the same lead-colored miles. He knew every ridge1 and draw and gully between him and the horizon. To the south, his plowed11 fields; to the east, the sod stables, the cattle corral, the pond, — and then the grass.
Bergson went over in his mind the things that had held him back. One winter his cattle had perished in a blizzard12. The next summer one of his plow horses broke its leg in a prairiedog hole and had to be shot. Another summer he lost his hogs13 from cholera15, and a valuable stallion died from a rattlesnake bite. Time and again his crops had failed. He had lost two children, boys, that came between Lou and Emil, and there had been the cost of sickness and death. Now, when he had at last struggled out of debt, he was going to die himself. He was only forty-six, and had, of course, counted upon more time.
Bergson had spent his first five years on the Divide getting into debt, and the last six getting out. He had paid off his mortgages and had ended pretty much where he began, with the land. He owned exactly six hundred and forty acres of what stretched outside his door; his own original homestead and timber claim, making three hundred and twenty acres, and the half-section adjoining, the homestead of a younger brother who had given up the fight, gone back to Chicago to work in a fancy bakery and distinguish himself in a Swedish athletic16 club. So far John had not attempted to cultivate the second half-section, but used it for pasture land, and one of his sons rode herd17 there in open weather.
John Bergson had the Old–World belief that land, in itself, is desirable. But this land was an enigma18. It was like a horse that no one knows how to break to harness, that runs wild and kicks things to pieces. He had an idea that no one understood how to farm it properly, and this he often discussed with Alexandra. Their neighbors, certainly, knew even less about farming than he did. Many of them had never worked on a farm until they took up their homesteads. They had been HANDWERKERS at home; tailors, locksmiths, joiners, cigar-makers, etc. Bergson himself had worked in a shipyard.
For weeks, John Bergson had been thinking about these things. His bed stood in the sitting-room19, next to the kitchen. Through the day, while the baking and washing and ironing were going on, the father lay and looked up at the roof beams that he himself had hewn, or out at the cattle in the corral. He counted the cattle over and over. It diverted him to speculate as to how much weight each of the steers20 would probably put on by spring. He often called his daughter in to talk to her about this. Before Alexandra was twelve years old she had begun to be a help to him, and as she grew older he had come to depend more and more upon her resourcefulness and good judgment22. His boys were willing enough to work, but when he talked with them they usually irritated him. It was Alexandra who read the papers and followed the markets, and who learned by the mistakes of their neighbors. It was Alexandra who could always tell about what it had cost to fatten23 each steer21, and who could guess the weight of a hog14 before it went on the scales closer than John Bergson himself. Lou and Oscar were industrious24, but he could never teach them to use their heads about their work.
Alexandra, her father often said to himself, was like her grandfather; which was his way of saying that she was intelligent. John Bergson’s father had been a shipbuilder, a man of considerable force and of some fortune. Late in life he married a second time, a Stockholm woman of questionable25 character, much younger than he, who goaded26 him into every sort of extravagance. On the shipbuilder’s part, this marriage was an infatuation, the despairing folly27 of a powerful man who cannot bear to grow old. In a few years his unprincipled wife warped28 the probity29 of a lifetime. He speculated, lost his own fortune and funds entrusted30 to him by poor seafaring men, and died disgraced, leaving his children nothing. But when all was said, he had come up from the sea himself, had built up a proud little business with no capital but his own skill and foresight32, and had proved himself a man. In his daughter, John Bergson recognized the strength of will, and the simple direct way of thinking things out, that had characterized his father in his better days. He would much rather, of course, have seen this likeness33 in one of his sons, but it was not a question of choice. As he lay there day after day he had to accept the situation as it was, and to be thankful that there was one among his children to whom he could entrust31 the future of his family and the possibilities of his hard-won land.
The winter twilight34 was fading. The sick man heard his wife strike a match in the kitchen, and the light of a lamp glimmered35 through the cracks of the door. It seemed like a light shining far away. He turned painfully in his bed and looked at his white hands, with all the work gone out of them. He was ready to give up, he felt. He did not know how it had come about, but he was quite willing to go deep under his fields and rest, where the plow could not find him. He was tired of making mistakes. He was content to leave the tangle36 to other hands; he thought of his Alexandra’s strong ones.
“DOTTER,” he called feebly, “DOTTER!” He heard her quick step and saw her tall figure appear in the doorway37, with the light of the lamp behind her. He felt her youth and strength, how easily she moved and stooped and lifted. But he would not have had it again if he could, not he! He knew the end too well to wish to begin again. He knew where it all went to, what it all became.
His daughter came and lifted him up on his pillows. She called him by an old Swedish name that she used to call him when she was little and took his dinner to him in the shipyard.
“Tell the boys to come here, daughter. I want to speak to them.”
“They are feeding the horses, father. They have just come back from the Blue. Shall I call them?”
He sighed. “No, no. Wait until they come in. Alexandra, you will have to do the best you can for your brothers. Everything will come on you.”
“I will do all I can, father.”
“Don’t let them get discouraged and go off like Uncle Otto. I want them to keep the land.”
“We will, father. We will never lose the land.”
There was a sound of heavy feet in the kitchen. Alexandra went to the door and beckoned38 to her brothers, two strapping39 boys of seventeen and nineteen. They came in and stood at the foot of the bed. Their father looked at them searchingly, though it was too dark to see their faces; they were just the same boys, he told himself, he had not been mistaken in them. The square head and heavy shoulders belonged to Oscar, the elder. The younger boy was quicker, but vacillating.
“Boys,” said the father wearily, “I want you to keep the land together and to be guided by your sister. I have talked to her since I have been sick, and she knows all my wishes. I want no quarrels among my children, and so long as there is one house there must be one head. Alexandra is the oldest, and she knows my wishes. She will do the best she can. If she makes mistakes, she will not make so many as I have made. When you marry, and want a house of your own, the land will be divided fairly, according to the courts. But for the next few years you will have it hard, and you must all keep together. Alexandra will manage the best she can.”
Oscar, who was usually the last to speak, replied because he was the older, “Yes, father. It would be so anyway, without your speaking. We will all work the place together.”
“And you will be guided by your sister, boys, and be good brothers to her, and good sons to your mother? That is good. And Alexandra must not work in the fields any more. There is no necessity now. Hire a man when you need help. She can make much more with her eggs and butter than the wages of a man. It was one of my mistakes that I did not find that out sooner. Try to break a little more land every year; sod corn is good for fodder40. Keep turning the land, and always put up more hay than you need. Don’t grudge41 your mother a little time for plowing42 her garden and setting out fruit trees, even if it comes in a busy season. She has been a good mother to you, and she has always missed the old country.”
When they went back to the kitchen the boys sat down silently at the table. Throughout the meal they looked down at their plates and did not lift their red eyes. They did not eat much, although they had been working in the cold all day, and there was a rabbit stewed43 in gravy44 for supper, and prune45 pies.
John Bergson had married beneath him, but he had married a good housewife. Mrs. Bergson was a fair-skinned, corpulent woman, heavy and placid46 like her son, Oscar, but there was something comfortable about her; perhaps it was her own love of comfort. For eleven years she had worthily47 striven to maintain some semblance48 of household order amid conditions that made order very difficult. Habit was very strong with Mrs. Bergson, and her unremitting efforts to repeat the routine of her old life among new surroundings had done a great deal to keep the family from disintegrating49 morally and getting careless in their ways. The Bergsons had a log house, for instance, only because Mrs. Bergson would not live in a sod house. She missed the fish diet of her own country, and twice every summer she sent the boys to the river, twenty miles to the southward, to fish for channel cat. When the children were little she used to load them all into the wagon50, the baby in its crib, and go fishing herself.
Alexandra often said that if her mother were cast upon a desert island, she would thank God for her deliverance, make a garden, and find something to preserve. Preserving was almost a mania51 with Mrs. Bergson. Stout52 as she was, she roamed the scrubby banks of Norway Creek looking for fox grapes and goose plums, like a wild creature in search of prey53. She made a yellow jam of the insipid54 ground-cherries that grew on the prairie, flavoring it with lemon peel; and she made a sticky dark conserve55 of garden tomatoes. She had experimented even with the rank buffalo-pea, and she could not see a fine bronze cluster of them without shaking her head and murmuring, “What a pity!” When there was nothing more to preserve, she began to pickle56. The amount of sugar she used in these processes was sometimes a serious drain upon the family resources. She was a good mother, but she was glad when her children were old enough not to be in her way in the kitchen. She had never quite forgiven John Bergson for bringing her to the end of the earth; but, now that she was there, she wanted to be let alone to reconstruct her old life in so far as that was possible. She could still take some comfort in the world if she had bacon in the cave, glass jars on the shelves, and sheets in the press. She disapproved57 of all her neighbors because of their slovenly58 housekeeping, and the women thought her very proud. Once when Mrs. Bergson, on her way to Norway Creek, stopped to see old Mrs. Lee, the old woman hid in the haymow “for fear Mis’ Bergson would catch her barefoot.”
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1
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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dwarf
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| n.矮子，侏儒，矮小的动植物；vt.使…矮小 | |
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6
landmarks
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| n.陆标( landmark的名词复数 )；目标；（标志重要阶段的）里程碑 ~ (in sth)；有历史意义的建筑物（或遗址） | |
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7
plow
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| n.犁，耕地，犁过的地；v.犁，费力地前进[英]plough | |
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8
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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prehistoric
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| adj.（有记载的）历史以前的，史前的，古老的 | |
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glaciers
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| 冰河，冰川( glacier的名词复数 ) | |
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plowed
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| v.耕( plow的过去式和过去分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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12
blizzard
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| n.暴风雪 | |
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hogs
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| n.（尤指喂肥供食用的）猪( hog的名词复数 )；（供食用的）阉公猪；彻底地做某事；自私的或贪婪的人 | |
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14
hog
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| n.猪；馋嘴贪吃的人；vt.把…占为己有，独占 | |
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cholera
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| n.霍乱 | |
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athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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17
herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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enigma
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| n.谜，谜一样的人或事 | |
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sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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steers
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| n.阉公牛，肉用公牛( steer的名词复数 )v.驾驶( steer的第三人称单数 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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fatten
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| v.使肥，变肥 | |
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industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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questionable
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| adj.可疑的，有问题的 | |
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26
goaded
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| v.刺激( goad的过去式和过去分词 )；激励；（用尖棒）驱赶；驱使（或怂恿、刺激）某人 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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28
warped
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| adj.反常的；乖戾的；（变）弯曲的；变形的v.弄弯，变歪( warp的过去式和过去分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
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probity
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| n.刚直；廉洁，正直 | |
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30
entrusted
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| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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entrust
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| v.信赖，信托，交托 | |
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foresight
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| n.先见之明，深谋远虑 | |
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33
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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34
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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35
glimmered
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| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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36
tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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37
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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38
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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39
strapping
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| adj. 魁伟的, 身材高大健壮的 n. 皮绳或皮带的材料, 裹伤胶带, 皮鞭 动词strap的现在分词形式 | |
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40
fodder
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| n.草料；炮灰 | |
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41
grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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42
plowing
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| v.耕( plow的现在分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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43
stewed
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| adj.焦虑不安的，烂醉的v.炖( stew的过去式和过去分词 )；煨；思考；担忧 | |
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44
gravy
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| n.肉汁；轻易得来的钱，外快 | |
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45
prune
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| n.酶干；vt.修剪，砍掉，削减；vi.删除 | |
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46
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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47
worthily
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| 重要地，可敬地，正当地 | |
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48
semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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49
disintegrating
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| v.（使）破裂[分裂，粉碎]，（使）崩溃( disintegrate的现在分词 ) | |
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50
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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51
mania
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| n.疯狂；躁狂症，狂热，癖好 | |
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53
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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54
insipid
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| adj.无味的，枯燥乏味的，单调的 | |
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55
conserve
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| vt.保存，保护，节约，节省，守恒，不灭 | |
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56
pickle
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| n.腌汁，泡菜；v.腌，泡 | |
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57
disapproved
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| v.不赞成( disapprove的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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58
slovenly
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| adj.懒散的，不整齐的，邋遢的 | |
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