The Man Who Spoke Snakish (26 page)

“They told Mother: ‘Be quiet, you old hag; we’ll find her anyway in the end and sacrifice her to the sprites,’ “ said Salme, interrupting.

“Why do you remember them calling me an old hag now?” railed Mother. “Why are you telling Leemet and Hiie that?”

“Well, that’s what they said!”

“They did, the beasts! I’m not an old hag yet! I told them, too, I said, ‘You, Ülgas, you look like a corpse walking on two legs; you’re a fine one to be calling somebody old! And you, Tambet, you’re no longer young either and you don’t look too good, your hair all gray!’ Ah, but now he’s dead? You see, and there he was, calling me an old hag!”

“Mother, that’s not important!” interrupted Salme. “Anyway, then they started to leave …”

“Wait! Let me tell it!” said Mother. “They didn’t start leaving so quickly; they stood around for a while demanding to know:
where did you go, where did you go? Let’s tell it as it actually was, Salme! You’d be better off going to see if the goat’s ready!”

Salme went to the inglenook, offended, while Mother carried on with her story.

“Well now, where was I? Yes, they stood asking questions. I said how would I know where you went? You didn’t say a word to me about a plan to go somewhere with Hiie; I guessed that you’d bring Hiie to us and make her your wife. Of course Tambet went blue in the face when he heard this, but I wasn’t afraid of him. I said straight out: ‘I see that my son did the right thing. That he’s a wise and good man, for if he’d brought Hiie home, he’d have had to fight you, and what kind of a life is it if you have murderers lurking around the house all the time, wanting to strike down your wife.’ And I went on: ‘Even if I knew where he and Hiie went, I wouldn’t say a word to you about it! And now get lost, because my son-in-law will be home soon, and if you upset me any more, he’ll bash you up!’ “

“And then Mõmmi did come,” sighed Salme, who was now carrying the cooked goat to the table.

“He did come, yes, and I said, ‘Look, if you please, here’s my son-in-law. Now clear off!’ And imagine the scene: Tambet pushed Mõmmi, so that Mõmmi fell on his backside into the fireplace and burned his bottom. Mõmmi, show Leemet and Hiie where you got hurt!”

“No problem, I’m getting better,” muttered the bear from his bed and turned on his side, so that we could see the singed fur on his lower half.

“Aren’t they cruel people!” sighed Mother. “Poor bear! Well, how can a person be so wicked as to push a living animal into the fire? I’d have quite happily stabbed them in the back with a
knife, but there was no time. Mõmmi was yelling in the fireplace and I had to help. At that moment those scoundrels took off, and I haven’t seen any more of them. Isn’t it terrible what we’ve all had to go through? I tell you there are few people left in the forest, but half of them are crazy.”

“Mõmmi, can you manage to come to the table?” Salme asked her husband, stroking the bear’s head tenderly.

“I might be able to get to the table,” answered the bear. “But I couldn’t sit down. Leave it. You eat; I’ll just rest.”

“I won’t hear of it!” said Mother. “You have to eat; otherwise you won’t get better. We’ll bring the meat to your bed and lift the table over beside you, so you won’t feel alone. Leemet and Salme, drag the table over to Mõmmi’s bed; today we’ll eat there.”

It took a while before we got the table into the right position, and then we had to find a suitable piece of meat for the sick Mõmmi and get him into a position where he could eat comfortably. Only then could we sit down at the table, and Mother looked at us in amazement.

“Why don’t you say anything? We’re waiting! We want to know where you’ve been all these days and how you got away from the disgusting sage!”

“And how did your father die, Hiie?” added Salme.

“Your grandfather killed him,” replied Hiie.

“My grandfather?” Salme repeated. “I don’t have a grandfather.”

I put one skull beaker on the table and shifted it in front of Mother.

“This is from your father,” I said. “He sends his greetings and said he’ll come visiting soon.”

“My father …” whispered Mother, looking at me with hazy eyes. “He’s dead. They threw him in the sea.”

“Oh no, he’s very much alive,” said Hiie. “He doesn’t have legs, but he’s built wings for himself and soon he’ll be flying to us with them.”

Mother stared at the skull chalice.

“I remember I had one of these as a child,” she murmured. “Father made it for me. I drank warm milk from it. It was my favorite cup.”

She kissed the beaker, pressed it against her cheek, and began crying quietly.

“Children, you don’t know what this means,” she whispered through her sobs. “To find your own father, and at my age. I thought he was dead long ago … But you say he’s coming back home. I feel like a little girl again. I was quite small then … Children, this is a miracle. Don’t worry that I’m crying like this, but I really … I just can’t …”

She kissed her beaker once more, and her tears dropped into it.

“A shame that Vootele didn’t see this day,” she said. “He was always very proud of our father. He was older, and remembered him better. Children, this is the most wonderful day of my life.”

“Mother, Grandfather hasn’t come home yet,” I said. “This is only a beaker made by him that you’re clutching. Wait until he arrives himself!”

“No, no,” sobbed Mother. “This cup is just as dear to me. It reminds me of my childhood. But now tell me everything! How did you meet my father? Where does he live?”

Hiie and I started competing with each other in retelling our adventures. Mother listened and interrupted only to occasionally shout, “Eat up! You’re not eating at all! But tell me what happened next?” So we had to gobble a piece of roast without chewing it and carry on talking. Salme sat beside Mõmmi on
the bed, stroking her bear and continually passing him more bones, which he gnawed slowly but surely clean. His bottom was indeed singed, but his appetite was unchanged. Gradually the evening was rolling in. All the stories had been told. We had loaded onto the table all the remaining skull cups, and Mother’s rapture knew no bounds. She arranged the crania in a row and stroked them delicately.

“Father is quite a master! Perhaps he’ll teach you, Leemet, this art of making drinking bowls. That would be nice.”

“So what do you plan to do from now on?” asked Salme.

“We’re thinking of getting married,” I replied, taking Hiie by the waist.

“That’s so lovely to hear,” smiled Mother. “Let’s hope that Grandfather will get to your wedding.”

“I think we won’t wait for him,” I said. Something within me told me that perhaps it would be wiser to hold the wedding before Grandfather’s arrival, since Grandfather would naturally say that women can wait, and would take me off to war. Although I had nothing against fighting together with Grandfather, I wanted at least to enjoy a few days of quiet peaceful family life before that.

“We’ll get married as quickly as possible,” I announced.

Mõmmi nodded from his bed.

“If I had such a beautiful bride, I would do exactly the same,” he said, eyeing Hiie lovingly.

“How’s your bottom?” shouted Salme, annoyed, shoving the bear painfully with her elbow.

“Hurts,” sighed the bear, turning his amber-colored eyes obediently toward Salme.

e slept in our shack, but the next morning Hiie wanted to visit her mother, and naturally I went with her. It was actually Mall who had saved our lives, and we hadn’t properly thanked her for it. We also had to bear her the news of Tambet’s death. Mother fed our bellies full to bursting and warned us about wolves wandering in the forest.

“They’re the same animals whose ears Tambet and Ülgas stopped up with wax,” she explained. “Now they won’t obey anybody. They just keep running around, their teeth bared, and they’re likely to bite. You can hiss at them as much as you like, but a feral wolf won’t notice it, so there’s nothing for it but to try and run home for cover. I tell you, this is the stupidest, stupidest trick, pouring wax in wolves’ ears. Sooner or later they’re going to eat somebody up. Be very careful and if you see any mad wolves, then climb a tree.”

Sure enough, Hiie and I had hardly gone any distance in the forest when we saw a wolf. It was prowling on us from the bushes
and it wasn’t at all possible to read from its green eyes whether it was just watching us or planning to leap on us.

I hissed a few Snakish words, but the wolf’s expression didn’t change; it started slowly creeping closer to us. It was most definitely one of the animals that had been deafened. Maybe the wolf recognized us and now wanted to execute the last command that had reached its brain before its ears were walled up forever. I pulled out my knife from its sheath and prepared to defend myself.

“Perhaps we’d be better off going up a tree as your mother recommended,” suggested Hiie.

“Would my grandfather run away from a wolf up a tree?” I asked.

“Your grandfather definitely wouldn’t,” said Hiie. “I think the wolf would be the one who’d try to save his skin by climbing a tree if he saw your grandfather. But you’re not your grandfather. Do you believe you can start killing wolves?”

“I do,” I replied, and I was speaking the truth. I was quite sure, even though I’d never before fought with a wolf. But the trip to Grandfather’s island had opened a new door within me, so to speak, from which flowed a feeling of self-assurance and a desire to struggle with someone, to chop up living flesh and drink the blood of my enemies. The wolf flew over me and I cut open its stomach with my knife, starting from the throat and ending at the tail. Its innards tumbled out and I was barely able to roll aside to avoid getting the wolf’s intestines in my face.

“Beautiful,” cried Hiie, clapping her hands. But then she added worriedly, “But there are two more coming.”

Indeed two new wolves had trotted onto the field of battle and were now creeping closer to us, a bloodthirsty expression
on their faces. Hiie hissed a few Snakish words, but naturally they fell on deaf, or rather silenced, ears, and the wolves didn’t turn their heads. I roared at them, as Grandfather would have done, and prepared myself to take them on.

But I didn’t have time to clash with the new wolves. Before I could, I heard a familiar hiss, and the wolves bayed at the air, only to tumble in a cramp to the ground and slowly perish. Two snake-kings appeared from among the long grass and I understood that they had bitten the wolves’ throats. I recognized the snakes instantly: they were Ints and her father. Ints was accompanied by a whole nest of little adders.

“Hello, dear Leemet!” said Ints’s father. “How nice that you’re back!”

“I wanted to be with you that night,” said Ints. “I would have stung all those filthy wolves to death and Tambet and Ülgas as well. Who cares if they understand Snakish? They are no longer our brothers. But I wasn’t able to get away from my children. Now even they know how to bite. I swear to you today they actually killed a wolf themselves.”

“Not quite by themselves, let’s be precise,” objected the old snake-king. “You’re like all mothers, always praising your own children. First of all I bit the wolf in the hip, so it could no longer move, and then the little ones finished it off. But I have to admit they were really good.”

The little adders listened to their grandfather and nodded their heads proudly.

“Where are you going?” asked Ints. “Might you come with us? We’re crawling through the forest looking for the wolves with the silenced ears, to finish them off. An animal that no longer understands Snakish must die. They’re too dangerous and
unpredictable. Father and I have already finished off six animals and all the other adders are at work in the forest, but there are still a lot of deaf wolves roaming around. Let’s go hunting them! I haven’t seen you for so long, Leemet, old friend!”

“Right now I can’t, Ints,” I said. “Another time. We’re on our way to Hiie’s mother’s place. Ints, you know, I’m getting married.”

“It’s great,” said Ints, “that even you are finally in heat. I’m really looking forward to next spring, when you can mate again. How long does your heat last?”

“Forever,” I said, embracing Hiie. “And all year round.”

“Oooh!” hummed Ints enviously. “In one way, humans are better than us after all.”

“Thinking all day only about reproducing is maybe a bit too much, though,” opined the old snake-king. “In any case, I wish you the best of luck! Come past our cave in the evening and tell us where you’ve been and what you’ve seen.”

We promised to come. The snakes crawled off to hunt the wolves, but we were soon at Hiie’s house.

The first thing that struck our eyes was the door of the wolves’ barn, which was swinging in the wind. When we stepped closer, we could see that the giant barn that had once harbored hundreds of wolves now stood completely empty. All the wolves had gone.

“Did he really stop up all the wolves’ ears with wax?” cried Hiie in amazement. “The adders have a lot of work to do …”

“No, not all,” said someone. It was Hiie’s mother, Mall, standing at the door of her shack, looking at us with damp eyes. “There were about thirty of them whose ears he poured full of wax. The rest I released into the forest. I didn’t want to see them
anymore. I couldn’t live in the same house with the wolves, not after that night when they chased you, dear daughter. You’re alive! The sprites kept you safe!”

Mall came over to Hiie and hugged her daughter, with love, but still somehow awkwardly. One might think that she hadn’t done it often. Evidently her mother’s embrace felt unfamiliar to Hiie too. She did respond to the affection, but seemed confused, and when Mall let go of her, she pulled quickly aside. “Yes,” sighed Mall guiltily. “We haven’t hugged very often. Your father didn’t like it; he was very stern. With himself and with others.”

“Mother,” said Hiie. “Father is dead.”

“I know,” replied Mall to our surprise. “Somehow I knew immediately when he rowed off from here that he wouldn’t be coming back. Then I let the wolves loose. Do you think I would have dared to do that if I’d thought your father was still coming back? Never! Wolf rearing was special to him,” she added with a bitter smile. “You never did learn to drink their milk.”

“It repulsed me,” said Hiie. “But you forced me; you poured it down my throat.”

“Well, yes,” muttered Mall hesitantly. “I have been too hard on you I know. That’s what your father wanted; he wished you brought up to be a real Estonian.”

“He wanted to kill me,” said Hiie.

“That was what Ülgas wanted,” sighed Mall, who appeared to be collapsing into such a tiny, wretched bundle that I began to feel sorry for her. “For Father it was very hard, but he was used to bringing sacrifices. He knew that the sprites’ wishes must be fulfilled; you can’t contradict them. They always get their way.”

“But we are here!” shouted Hiie. “We’re alive! We haven’t been sacrificed to the sprites. They haven’t got their way.”

“I started believing that they don’t want you killed,” replied Mall. “Ülgas was mistaken. The sprites are good. They protect the forest and its dwellers; they couldn’t want a forest child to die. They helped me, gave me strength, so that I could ride after you and lead you to the boat. Children, the sprites saved you!”

She shook her head so excitedly—this tiny, elderly, shriveled woman—that I didn’t have the heart to laugh in her face and say that there are no sprites, and that if she did save us, it was thanks to her heart, which Ülgas’s legends hadn’t managed to taint. Her husband’s heart had been turned by these endless tales of the sprites into a lump of mud. Mall had still remained a human being and a mother. She was looking at us with such a simple and yet saintly gaze that I pitied her. Let her believe in her sprites, then, if she can’t do anything else. I bowed before her, kissed both her hands in turn, and said, “Mother, I’m taking Hiie to be my wife now.”

“I’m pleased,” replied Mall, smiling timidly and stroking my head with her fingertips. Quite certainly she couldn’t have forgotten all the stories that Tambet had told about me, and she must have felt a certain dread seeing me here in her house. I was a strong opponent of the so-called sprites, ever since the business of the swimming louse. You can’t become beloved overnight, but I wasn’t so interested in that either. It was Hiie I was marrying, not her mother, and I really didn’t care what Mall thought of me.

“Could I perhaps talk with Ülgas …” began Hiie’s mother, but she felt clumsy, because even she knew that neither I nor Hiie had good relations with Ülgas. “But … I suppose you don’t want to invite Ülgas to the wedding?”

“No,” I replied. “He’s hardly likely to come and bring us together. Yesterday I ripped off one of his ears and a cheek, and I promised that if he comes before me again, his head will fly off.”

Mall looked at me in amazement, swallowed, and turned her eyes helplessly to Hiie.

“Where will you marry then, if not in the sacred grove?”

“We’ll get married anywhere, but not there,” replied Hiie. “Mother, the last time I was there Ülgas and Father tried to kill me! I’m never going there again and the only wedding present I request from Leemet is that he razes the whole grove to the ground and burns down the trees.”

“Dear child, don’t talk like that!” begged Mall. “Our ancestors have visited it for thousands of years bringing sacrifices! A sprite lives in every tree in the grove. Those trees are sacred!”

“No tree is sacred!” said Hiie. “The trees in the grove will do just as well for making a bonfire and cooking meat as any other beam or branch. Yes, we’ll celebrate our wedding with a big fire! We’ll set light to all those disgusting old trees in the grove; we’ll roast a deer and dance around the fire. Leemet, that’s the kind of wedding I want, and no other!”

“Very good,” I said. “I’ll go today and raze the grove and I hope I manage to raze Ülgas to the ground too!”

“Children!” squealed Mall. “Children!”

She looked at us in terror, as if she were afraid for our lives.

“Mother, enough of this silliness,” said Hiie. “Father is dead, Ülgas is probably running around now bleeding to death, and we have no more need for these senseless pieces of timber, which don’t mean a thing. There are so few of us left here in the forest that we could at least try to live honestly, without tricks and lies. Mother, if you want to believe in the sprites, then believe.
The forest is full of trees to worship and adorn, but I want that disgusting grove, where I was led like a hare to the slaughter, to burn at my wedding and crumble to ash. I hate those trees! Understand, Mother?”

“Child, that talk is horrible!” said Mall. Her whole body shook. “You’re inviting misfortune. If the sprites hear you … And they certainly will, for they hear everything!”

“They don’t,” I said. “Mother, calm down! There’s no point despairing over some half-rotten tree. The important thing is for us to have a beautiful fire and a nice wedding, that we get to eat nicely roasted brown meat and we have fun!”

“I’m afraid for you,” said Mall. “I’m afraid something terrible will happen. The sacred grove … Please don’t destroy it!”

“I won’t live in the same forest as that abomination!” declared Hiie. “If Leemet doesn’t chop it down, I’ll take an ax myself, the same one that Father forced me as a child to chop hares’ heads off with.”

“No need,” I said. “I’ll do it. With pleasure.”

One might fear that razing the sacred grove was hard work, but it wasn’t. The enormous old linden trees were rotten to the core. They were just decaying corpses, into which you only had to make a cut and each giant would collapse of its own accord. In places the trunks were so soft that the ax got stuck in soggy material as if I were chopping mud. It was a miracle that those trees hadn’t collapsed earlier. As they fell down they broke into hundreds of little pieces, collapsed into decayed wood pulp, and all kinds of insects that had laid their white eggs in the trees were
now scurrying stupidly around, unable to understand why their soft sludgy home was suddenly split apart.