CHAPTER V

It was the height of summer. The squire and his wife had gone away, and the villagers had forgotten all about them. New wool had begun to grow on the shorn sheep.

The sun was so hot that the clouds fled from the sky into the woods, and the ground protected itself with what it could find; with dust on the highroads, gra.s.s in the meadows, and heavy crops in the fields.

But human beings had to toil their hardest at this time. At the manor they were cutting clover and hoeing turnips; in the cottages the women were piling up the potatoes, while the old women were gathering mallows for cooling drinks and lime-blossoms against the ague. The priest spent all his days tracking and taking swarms of bees; Josel, the innkeeper, was making vinegar. The woods resounded with the voices of children picking berries.

The corn was getting ripe, and Slimak began to cut the rye the day after the a.s.sumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary. He was in a hurry to get the work done in two or three days, lest the corn should drop out in the great heat, and also because he wanted to help with the harvesting at the manor.

Usually he, Maciek, and Jendrek worked together, alternately cutting and binding the sheaves. Slimakowa and Magda helped in the early morning and in the afternoon.

On the first day, while the five were working together, and had reached the top of the hill, Magda noticed some men showing against the dark background of the wood, and drew Slimakowa's attention to them. They all stopped work and looked.

'They must be peasants,' Maciek said; 'they are wearing white smocks.'

'They do not walk like peasants,' said Slimakowa.

'But they are wearing boots up to their knees,' said Slimak.

'Look! they are carrying poles,' Jendrek cried; 'and they are dragging a rope after them.'

'Ah, they must be surveyors. What can they be after?' reflected Slimak.

'Surely, they are taking a fresh survey; now, Josef, aren't you glad you did not buy that land?' asked his wife. They took up their work again, but did not get on very fast, for they could not resist throwing sidelong glances at the approaching men. It was now quite plain that they were not peasants, for they wore white coats and had black ribbons on their hats. Slimak's attention became so absorbed that he lagged behind, in the place which Magda usually occupied, instead of being at the head of the party. At last he cried:

'Jendrek, stop cutting; run and find out what they are doing, and if they are really measuring for a new land-distribution.'

Jendrek was off in a moment, and had soon reached the men. He forgot to come back. The little party watched him talk to the men for a few moments, and then becoming busy with the poles.

'I say!' cried Slimakowa, 'he is quite one of the party! Just look, how he is running along with the line, as if he had never done anything else in his life. He has never seen a book except in the Jew's shop window, and yet he can run better than any of them. I wish I had told him to put on his boots; they will never take him for the son of a gospodarz.'

She watched Jendrek with great pride until the party disappeared behind the line of the hill.

'Something will come of this,' said Slimak, 'either good or bad.'

'Why should it be bad?' asked his wife; 'they may add to our land; what do you think, Maciek?'

The farm labourer looked embarra.s.sed when he was asked for his opinion, and pondered until the perspiration flowed from his head.

'Why should it be good?' he said at last. 'When I was working for the squire at Krzeszowie, and he went bankrupt, just such men as these came and measured the land, and soon afterwards we had to pay a new tax. No good ever comes of anything new.'

Jendrek returned towards sunset, quite out of breath. He called out to his mother that the gentlemen wanted some milk, and had given him twenty kopeks.

'Give them to your mother at once,' said Slimak; 'they are not for you, but for the milk.'

Jendrek was almost in tears. 'Why should I give up my money? They say they will pay for everything they have, and even want to buy b.u.t.ter and fowls.'

'Are they traders?'

'Oh no, they are great gentlemen, and live in a tent and keep a cook.'

'Gipsies, I dare say!'

Slimakowa had run off at top speed, and now the men appeared, perspiring, sunburnt, and dusty; nevertheless, they impressed Slimak and Maciek so much with their grand manner that they took off their caps.

'Which of you is the gospodarz?'

'I am.'

'How long have you lived here?'

'From my childhood.'

'And have you ever seen the river in flood?'

'I should think I had!'

'Do you remember how high the water rises?'

'Sometimes it overflows on to that meadow deep enough to drown a man.'

'Are you quite sure of that?'

'Everybody knows that. Those gaps in the hill have been scooped out by the water.'

'The bridge will have to be sixty feet high.'

'Certainly,' said the elder of the two men. 'Can you let us have some milk, gospodarz?'

'My wife is getting it ready, if it pleases the gentlemen to come.'

The whole party turned towards the cottage, for the drinking of milk by such distinguished gentlemen was an important event; it was decided to stop harvesting for the day.

Chairs and the cherrywood table had been placed in front of the cottage. A rye loaf, b.u.t.ter, white cheese with caraway seeds, and a bowl of b.u.t.termilk were in readiness.

'Well,' said the men, looking at each other in surprise, 'a n.o.bleman could not have received us better.'

They ate heartily, praised everything, and finally asked Slimakowa what they owed her.

'May it be to the gentlemen's health!'

'But we cannot fleece you like this, gospodyni.'

'We don't take money for hospitality. Besides, you have already given my boy as much as if he had been harvesting a whole day.'

'There!' whispered the younger man to the elder, 'isn't that like Polish peasants?'