She was wearing
her little short cotton petticoat, that did not even reach to her knees,
and over her shoulders a woolen scarf borrowed from Glahn. She walked
slowly, as she always did, and did not so much as glance towards my
window. Then she disappeared behind the huts.
A little after came Glahn, with his rifle under his arm, all ready to go
out. He looked gloomy, and did not even say good-morning. I noticed,
though, that he had got himself up and taken special care about his
dress.
I got ready at once and went with him. Neither of us said a word. The
first two birds we shot were mangled horribly, through shooting them
with the rifle; but we cooked them under a tree as best we could, and
ate in silence. So the day wore on till noon.
Glahn called out to me:
"Sure your gun is loaded? We might come across something unexpectedly.
Load it, anyhow."
"It is loaded," I answered.
Then he disappeared a moment into the bush. I felt it would be a
pleasure to shoot him then--pick him off and shoot him down like a dog.
There was no hurry; he could still enjoy the thought of it for a bit. He
knew well enough what I had in mind: that was why he had asked if my gun
were loaded. Even to-day he could not refrain from giving way to his
beastly pride. He had dressed himself up and put on a new shirt; his
manner was, lordly beyond all bounds.
Pages:
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181