"Let us go," said he, as he pulled open the door, so excited that he could scarcely speak.
"But the school-master?" asked some of the children.
"The deuce take the school-master! The bear! The bear!" cried Thorvald, and could say no more.
"Is it shot?" asked one, very softly, and the others dared not draw their breath.
Thorvald sat panting for a while, finally he got up, mounted one of the benches, swung his cap, and shouted,--
"Let us go, I say. I will take all the responsibility."
"But where shall we go?" asked Hans.
"The largest bear has been borne down, the others still remain. Niels Boen has been badly hurt, because Lars's rifle missed its mark, and the bears rushed straight at them. The boy who went with them saved himself only by throwing himself flat on the ground, and pretending to be dead, and the bear did not touch him. As soon as Lars and Niels had killed their bear, they shot his also. Hurrah!"
"Hurrah!" shouted all, both girls and boys, and up from their seats, and out through the door, they sprang, and off they ran over field and wood to Boen, as though there was no such thing as a school-master in the whole world.
The girls soon complained that they were not able to keep up, but the boys took them by the hand and away they all rushed.
"Take care not to touch it!" said Thorvald; "it sometimes happens that the bears become alive again."
"Is that so?" asked Marit.
"Yes, and they appear in a new form, so have a care!"
And they kept running.
"Lars shot the largest one ten times before it fell," he began again.
"Just think! ten times!"
And they kept running.
"And Niels stabbed it eighteen times with his knife before it fell!"
"Mercy! what a bear!"
And the children ran so that the sweat poured down from their faces.
Finally they reached the place. Ole Boen pushed the door open and got in first.
"Have a care!" cried Hans after him.
Marit and a little girl that Thorvald and Hans had led between them, were the next ones, and then came Thorvald, who did not go far forward, but remained standing where he could observe the whole scene.
"See the blood!" said he to Hans.
The others hardly knew whether they should venture in just yet.
"Do you see it?" asked a girl of a boy, who stood by her side in the door.
"Yes, it is as large as the captain's large horse," answered he, and went on talking to her. It was bound with iron chains, he said, and had even broken the one that had been put about its fore-legs. He could see distinctly that it was alive, and the blood was flowing from it like a waterfall.
Of course, this was not true; but they forgot that when they caught sight of the bear, the rifle, and Niels, who sat there with bandaged wounds after the fight with the bear, and when they heard old Lars the hunter tell how all had happened. So eagerly, and with so much interest did they look and listen, that they did not observe that some one came behind them who also began to tell his story, and that in the following manner:--
"I will teach you to leave the school without my permission, that I will!"
A cry of fright arose from the whole crowd, and out through the door, through the veranda, and out into the yard they ran. Soon they appeared like a lot of black balls, rolling one by one, over the snow-white field, and when the school-master on his old legs followed them to the school-house, he could hear the children reading from afar off; they read until the walls fairly rattled.
Aye, that was a glorious day, the day when the bear-hunter came home! It began in sunshine and ended in rain, but such days are usually the best growing days.
THE FATHER.
The man whose story is here to be told was the wealthiest and most influential person in his parish; his name was Thord overaas. He appeared in the priest's study one day, tall and earnest.
"I have gotten a son," said he, "and I wish to present him for baptism."
"What shall his name be?"
"Finn,--after my father."
"And the sponsors?"
They were mentioned, and proved to be the best men and women of Thord's relations in the parish.
"Is there anything else?" inquired the priest, and looked up.
The peasant hesitated a little.
"I should like very much to have him baptized by himself," said he, finally.
"That is to say on a week-day?"
"Next Saturday, at twelve o'clock noon."
"Is there anything else?" inquired the priest.
"There is nothing else;" and the peasant twirled his cap, as though he were about to go.
Then the priest rose. "There is yet this, however," said he, and walking toward Thord, he took him by the hand and looked gravely into his eyes: "God grant that the child may become a blessing to you!"
One day sixteen years later, Thord stood once more in the priest's study.
"Really, you carry your age astonishingly well, Thord," said the priest; for he saw no change whatever in the man.