animal heroes(动物英雄)-第41节
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the dance was necessary to mask the meeting； and during that Borgrevinck
learned of the swift White Ren。
The Nystuen trip had failed； thanks to the speed of the White Buk。
Borgrevinck must get to Bergen before word of this； or all would be lost。
There was only one way； to be sure of getting there before any one else。
Possibly word had already gone from Laersdalsoren。 But even at that；
Borgrevinck could get there and save himself； at the price of all Norway； if
need be； provided he went with the White Storbuk。 He would not be
denied。 He was not the man to give up a point； though it took all the
influence he could bring to bear； this time； to get old Sveggum's leave。
The Storbuk was quietly sleeping in the corral when Sveggum came to
bring him。 He rose leisurely； hind legs first； stretched one； then the other；
curling his tail tight on his back as he did so； shook the hay from the great
antlers as though they were a bunch of twigs； and slowly followed
Sveggum at the end of the tight halter。 He was so sleepy and slow that
Borgrevinck impatiently gave him a kick； and got for response a short
snort from the Buk； and from Sveggum an earnest warning； both of which
were somewhat scornfully received。 The tinkling bells on the harness had
been replaced； but Borgrevinck wanted them removed。 He wished to go in
silence。 Sveggum would not be left behind when his favorite Ren went
forth； so he was given a seat in the horse…sleigh which was to follow； and
the driver thereof received from his master a secret hint to delay。
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Then； with papers on his person to death…doom a multitude of
misguided men； with fiendish intentions in his heart as well as the power
to carry them out； and with the fate of Norway in his hands； Borgrevinck
was made secure in the sled； behind the White Storbuk； and sped at dawn
on his errand of desolation。
At the word from Sveggum the White Ren set off with a couple of
bounds that threw Borgrevinck back in the pulk。 This angered him； but he
swallowed his wrath on seeing that it left the horse…sleigh behind。 He
shook the line； shouted； and the Buk settled down to a long； swinging trot。
His broad hoofs clicked double at every stride。 His nostrils； out level；
puffed steady blasts of steam in the frosty morning as he settled to his pace。
The pulk's prow cut two long shears of snow； that swirled up over man and
sled till all were white。 And the great ox…eyes of the King Ren blazed
joyously in the delight of motion； and of conquest too； as the sound of
the horse…bells faded far behind。
Even masterful Borgrevinck could not but mark with pleasure the
noble creature that had balked him last night and now was lending its
speed to his purpose； for it was his intention to arrive hours before the
horse…sleigh； if possible。
Up the rising road they sped as though downhill； and the driver's
spirits rose with the exhilarating speed。 The snow groaned ceaselessly
under the prow of the pulk； and the frosty creaking under the hoofs of the
flying Ren was like the gritting of mighty teeth。 Then came the level
stretch from Nystuen's hill to Dalecarl's； and as they whirled by in the
early day； little Carl chanced to peep from a window； and got sight of the
Great White Ren in a white pulk with a white driver； just as it is in the
stories of the Giants； and clapped his hands； and cried； 〃Good； good！〃
But his grandfather； when he caught a glimpse of the white wonder
that went without even sound of bells； felt a cold chill in his scalp； and
went back to light a candle that he kept at the window till the sun was high；
for surely this was the Storbuk of Jotunheim。
But the Ren whirled on； and the driver shook the reins and thought
only of Bergen。 He struck the White Steed with the loose end of the rope。
The Buk gave three great snorts and three great bounds； then faster went；
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and as they passed by Dyrskaur； where the Giant sits on the edge； his head
was muffled in scud； which means that a storm is coming。 The Storbuk
knew it。 He sniffed； and eyed the sky with anxious look； and even slacked
a little； but Borgrevinck yelled at the speeding beast； though going yet as
none but he could go； and struck him once； twice； and thrice； and harder
yet。 So the pulk was whirled along like a skiff in a steamer's wake； but
there was blood in the Storbuk's eye now； and Borgrevinck was hard put
to balance the sled。 The miles flashed by like roods till Sveggum's bridge
appeared。 The storm…wind now was blowing； but there was the Troll。
Whence came he now； none knew； but there he was； hopping on the
keystone and singing of
Norway's fate and Norway's luck； Of the hiding Troll and the riding
Buk。
Down the winding highway they came； curving inward as they swung
around the corner。 At the voice on the bridge the Deer threw back his ears
and slackened his pace。 Borgrevinck； not knowing whence it came； struck
savagely at the Ren。 The red light gleamed in those ox…like eyes。 He
snorted in anger and shook the great horns； but he did not stop to avenge
the blow。 For him was a vaster vengeance still。 He onward sped as before；
but from that time Borgrevinck had lost all control。 The one voice that the
Ren would hear had been left behind。 They whirled aside； off the road；
before the bridge was reached。 The pulk turned over； but righted itself； and
Borgrevinck would have been thrown out and killed but for the straps。 It
was not to be so； it seemed rather as though the every curse of Norway
had been gathered into the sled for a purpose。 Bruised and battered； he
reappeared。 The Troll from the bridge leaped lightly to the Storbuk's head；
and held on to the horns as he danced and sang his ancient song； and a
new song； too：
Ha！ at last！ Oh； lucky day； Norway's curse to wipe away！
Borgrevinck was terrified and furious。 He struck harder at the Storbuk
as he bounded over the rougher snow； and vainly tried to control him。 He
lost his head in fear。 He got out his knife； at last； to strike at the wild Buk's
hamstrings； but a blow from the hoof sent it flying from his hand。 Their
speed on the road was slow to that they now made： no longer striding at
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the trot； but bounding madly； great five…stride bounds； the wretched
Borgrevinck strapped in the sled； alone and helpless through his own
contriving； screaming； cursing； and praying。 The Storbuk with bloodshot
eyes； madly steaming； careered up the rugged ascent； up to the broken；
stormy Hoifjeld； mounting the hills as a Petrel mounts the rollers；
skimming the flats as a Fulmar skims the shore； he followed the trail
where his mother had first led his tottering steps； up from the Vand…dam
nook。 He followed the old familiar route that he had followed for five
years； where the white…winged Rype flies aside； where the black rock
mountains； shining white； come near and block the sky； 〃where the
Reindeer find their mysterie。〃
On like the little snow…wreath that the storm…wind sends dancing
before the storm； on like a whirlwind over the shoulder of Suletind； over
the knees of Torholmenbraethe Giants that sit at the gateway。 Faster than
man or beast could follow； upupupand on； and no one saw them go；
but a Raven that swooped behind； and flew as Raven never flew； and the
Troll； the same old Troll that sang by the Vand…dam； and now danced and
sang between the antlers：
Good luck； good luck for Norway With the White Storbuk comes
riding。
Over Tvindehoug they faded like flying scud on t
