Dream Tales and Prose Poems Part 19

'Neither the Jungfrau nor the Finsteraarhorn has yet been trodden by the foot of man!'

The topmost peaks of the Alps ... A whole chain of rugged precipices ...

The very heart of the mountains.

Over the mountain, a pale green, clear, dumb sky. Bitter, cruel frost; hard, sparkling snow; sticking out of the snow, the sullen peaks of the ice-covered, wind-swept mountains.

Two ma.s.sive forms, two giants on the sides of the horizon, the Jungfrau and the Finsteraarhorn.

And the Jungfrau speaks to its neighbour: 'What canst thou tell that is new? thou canst see more. What is there down below?'

A few thousand years go by: one minute. And the Finsteraarhorn roars back in answer: 'Thick clouds cover the earth.... Wait a little!'

Thousands more years go by: one minute.

'Well, and now?' asks the Jungfrau.

'Now I see, there below all is the same. There are blue waters, black forests, grey heaps of piled-up stones. Among them are still fussing to and fro the insects, thou knowest, the bipeds that have never yet once defiled thee nor me.'

'Men?'

'Yes, men.'

Thousands of years go by: one minute.

'Well, and now?' asks the Jungfrau.

'There seem fewer insects to be seen,' thunders the Finsteraarhorn, 'it is clearer down below; the waters have shrunk, the forests are thinner.' Again thousands of years go by: one minute.

'What seeest thou?' says the Jungfrau.

'Close about us it seems purer,' answers the Finsteraarhorn, 'but there in the distance in the valleys are still spots, and something is moving.' 'And now?' asks the Jungfrau, after more thousands of years: one minute.

'Now it is well,' answers the Finsteraarhorn, 'it is clean everywhere, quite white, wherever you look ... Everywhere is our snow, unbroken snow and ice. Everything is frozen. It is well now, it is quiet.'

'Good,' said the Jungfrau. 'But we have gossipped enough, old fellow. It's time to slumber.'

'It is time, indeed.'

The huge mountains sleep; the green, clear sky sleeps over the region of eternal silence.

_February 1878._

THE OLD WOMAN

I was walking over a wide plain alone.

And suddenly I fancied light, cautious footsteps behind my back.... Some one was walking after me.

I looked round, and saw a little, bent old woman, all m.u.f.fled up in grey rags. The face of the old woman alone peeped out from them; a yellow, wrinkled, sharp-nosed, toothless face.

I went up to her.... She stopped.

'Who are you? What do you want? Are you a beggar? Do you seek alms?'

The old woman did not answer. I bent down to her, and noticed that both her eyes were covered with a half-transparent membrane or skin, such as is seen in some birds; they protect their eyes with it from dazzling light.

But in the old woman, the membrane did not move nor uncover the eyes ...

from which I concluded she was blind.

'Do you want alms?' I repeated my question. 'Why are you following me?'

But the old woman as before made no answer, but only shrank into herself a little.

I turned from her and went on my way.

And again I hear behind me the same light, measured, as it were, stealthy steps.

'Again that woman!' I thought, 'why does she stick to me?' But then, I added inwardly, 'Most likely she has lost her way, being blind, and now is following the sound of my steps so as to get with me to some inhabited place. Yes, yes, that's it.'

But a strange uneasiness gradually gained possession of my mind. I began to fancy that the old woman was not only following me, but that she was directing me, that she was driving me to right and to left, and that I was unwittingly obeying her.

I still go on, however ... but, behold, before me, on my very road, something black and wide ... a kind of hole.... 'A grave!' flashed through my head. 'That is where she is driving me!'

I turned sharply back. The old woman faced me again ... but she sees! She is looking at me with big, cruel, malignant eyes ... the eyes of a bird of prey.... I stoop down to her face, to her eyes.... Again the same opaque membrane, the same blind, dull countenance....

'Ah!' I think, 'this old woman is my fate. The fate from which there is no escape for man!'

'No escape! no escape! What madness.... One must try.' And I rush away in another direction.

I go swiftly.... But light footsteps as before patter behind me, close, close.... And before me again the dark hole.

Again I turn another way.... And again the same patter behind, and the same menacing blur of darkness before.

And whichever way I run, doubling like a hunted hare ... it's always the same, the same!

'Wait!' I think, 'I will cheat her! I will go nowhere!' and I instantly sat down on the ground.

The old woman stands behind, two paces from me. I do not hear her, but I feel she is there.

And suddenly I see the blur of darkness in the distance is floating, creeping of itself towards me!

G.o.d! I look round again ... the old woman looks straight at me, and her toothless mouth is twisted in a grin.

No escape!