The Man Who Spoke Snakish

Twenty

had hardly got among the trees when I stepped in the darkness on something soft. This soft thing belched and then swore obscenely, and I realized my foot had hit upon Meeme’s stomach as he lay on the ground.

“I’m sorry!” I said. “It’s so dark here.”

“Dark!” sneered Meeme. “Yes, of course, eyes that come from the village can’t make things out. Everything gets blunted there, starting with your common sense. I’d just been having a drink when you stepped on my belly, you damn idiot.” He wiped some spilled wine off his face and licked his hand.

“I apologize,” I said. “But there’s no need to be in the middle of the road; you could at least go and sleep under the bushes.”

“Where is there a road in this forest, then?” asked Meeme. “There are no longer any roads here. Animals walk in the bushes, but humans don’t live here anymore. The forest is empty; only you and a couple of other fools roam around and disturb the peaceful sleepers. Why did you come here? You went to the village, could’ve stayed there. What are you looking for here? Is there no one in the village with a belly to trample on?”

“No, there’s no one lying on the ground, and no one like leaf mold as you are,” I replied angrily. Meeme laughed.

“I’m not only like leaf mold; it’s what I actually am. Can you smell the stink of decay?”

“I can,” I replied. That stench had indeed returned to my nostrils, and although a very small whiff of the sweet Magdaleena still clung to my clothes, it soon evaporated in the forest. “I’m not surprised. Look at you!”

Meeme laughed again.

“Yes, I’m decaying,” he said. “Not just me. You are too. You can smell your own scent, you unhappy lop-ear! We’re all crumbling to dust, starting with your uncle, then me, and finally you. We’re like last year’s leaves, which melt away under the snow in spring, brown and rotten. We belong to last year and our fate is to quietly change into ashes, because new life has already sprouted on the tips of the trees and new fresh green buds are bursting forth. You can march around the forest and imagine to yourself that you’re young and that you have something important to do, but actually you’re old and moldy, like me. You stink! Sniff yourself! Sniff carefully! That decay is inside you!”

He started coughing and I quickly took to my heels, my back wet with fearful sweat. Meeme had uttered what I myself had long feared — that the torturous stink of decay that clung around came from me. I had caught it from Uncle Vootele like an infection. When I smelt decay in Elder Johannes’s house, I was smelling myself!

Of course it wasn’t a visible, open wound that spread this stench; nor was it an internal focus of disease, a swelling hiding in the abdominal cavity or the chest, and you could quite surely claim that apart from me no one else was aware of the smell. Only I could smell myself, just as only oneself can read and understand one’s own secret thoughts.

It was the Snakish words in my mouth that stank: in the new world the knowledge that was quietly and insipidly decaying was proving to be useless and unnecessary. Suddenly I saw my own future with terrible clarity — a solitary life in the midst of the forest, my only companions a couple of adders, while outside the woods were the galloping iron men, the singing monks, and thousands of villagers going to cut grain with scythes. Could I change anything? Go to the village and till the soil and eat bread with the other villagers? I didn’t like life there; I felt immeasurably better and wiser than the villagers. And I was. I loved the forest, I loved Snakish, I loved that world under whose roof slept the Frog of the North. So what if I had no hope of ever seeing him with my own eyes? But at the same time there was nothing for me to do here. I sensed that especially strongly now. I had spent a whole day in the village, and although I didn’t enjoy the monks’ whining song or approve of the idiotic torture of the cow, I did at once realize that this outside world was interesting. I had had dealings with many people. I’d conversed, been silent, experienced a lot that was new. In the forest my days passed quite monotonously. Yes, as a child it had been nice to play here; what could I do in the gigantic woods, so empty of people, as an adult? How could I pass my whole life here?

Those few people who lived in the forest apart from me had filled their days with their own invented diversions: Tambet and Mall were raising armies of wolves that nobody actually needed; Ülgas was bustling around the grove and bringing sacrifices to the invented sprites. The Primates were breeding lice and trying to force themselves back into the most primeval past. My mother’s days passed in roasting, Salme in watching over her Mõmmi. Hiie? She was wandering around the forest like me, feeling ever lonelier.

Of course there was Ints and the other adders, but they were snakes; they had their own life, especially now, when Ints had become a mother. Suddenly the forest seemed terribly unconsoling to me. In the village they lived like fools, but they lived to the full. In the village lived Magdaleena, whom I adored. I should have gone there, to get rid of the stench of decay in my nose, and yet I didn’t want to do that; the very thought was repulsive to me. I didn’t have anything to do in the forest. I lacked any kind of a future here — but it was my home. I couldn’t become a green leaf; I was one of last year’s crop.

This knowledge drove me to despair. I wanted to live in the forest, I wanted to be with Magdaleena, I wanted other people around me, I wanted them not to be fools, I wanted them to know Snakish, I wanted some meaning in my life, I didn’t want to decay. But all these wishes were incompatible and in opposition, and I knew that most of them weren’t destined to be fulfilled. Everything might have been different if my mother hadn’t ever moved out of the village, if she hadn’t started to be attracted to a bear, and if that bear hadn’t bitten my father’s head off. Then I would have grown up among the villagers, my tongue would have been thick from eating bread, and I wouldn’t have understood a single Snakish word. I would now be an ordinary villager and my life would be simple and clear. I was wandering in time, and entered a door to the past just before it closed over. It was no longer possible for me to leave. I was bound by the Snakish words.

In an inconsolable mood I trudged home and found my whole family there — Mother, Salme, and Mõmmi, plus a tableful of roast venison through which Mõmmi had managed to gnaw a wide swathe. At first I thought that the topic would again be the bear’s bad deeds, which I, as the only man in the family, would have to take a stand against. That I did not want to do. I was so tired and in the grip of such despondency that I couldn’t be bothered to start a fuss with a silly bear. But it emerged that this was not the current chapter in Salme’s and Mõmmi’s love story. The reality was much worse.

Mother was white in the face, and as soon as I stepped inside, she leapt upon me and yelled, “You have to do something! Hiie is your bride, after all!”

Especially on this evening, after my meeting with Magdaleena and the kiss I received from her, I didn’t care at all for a conversation on the subject of my relations with Hiie. But Mother was so upset that I understood: this was no tiny domestic issue. Something really bad must have happened.

“What’s this about Hiie?” I asked.

“They want to sacrifice her!” said Salme, with tearful eyes. “Where have you been all day, anyway? We’ve been looking for you everywhere. Mõmmi even climbed up a spruce tree to look, but you couldn’t be found anywhere, and he couldn’t see you. Where were you?”

“That’s not important now,” I said. “Rather you tell me what you mean. Who’s sacrificing her and to whom?”

“For heaven’s sake, Ülgas of course, that evil man!” replied Mother. “Who else? He’s taken it into his head that our life here in the forest won’t get better until the sprites get the sacrifice of a young virgin. The mad old man! What’s wrong with our life? There’s meat on the table, full stomachs. What more does a person want? But look, he has little to choose from, and since Hiie is the only young virgin here in the forest, she was picked out. Lucky for you, Salme, that you have a husband! Very good that you found dear little Mõmmi for yourself!”

“Thanks, Mummy,” said Mõmmi piously, without stopping from gnawing on a bone.

“What do Tambet and Mall say about it?” I asked, astonished. “Hiie is their daughter after all.”

“They don’t have a sound thought in their heads,” wept Mother. “Ülgas has driven them insane. He’s a half-wit himself and makes others like himself. I saw him this morning; the old man was collecting dried twigs and singing in a shrill voice. I asked him what was making him so happy, and he replied that tonight the forest will be saved, because young blood will wash away all the filth, and out of the sacrificial smoke the ancient world will arise before us again. He showed me those twigs he’d collected, and announced that on that sacred wood we would burn a young virgin. I got frightened — I’m the mother of a daughter too — and I asked, ‘What mad scheme are you planning, who are you going to burn?’ ‘Hiie.’ He said he would first let out the girl’s blood to please the sprites, and then burn the corpse on a pyre. The sprites are supposed to have told him that only the blood of a young virgin would make the world as it was. I felt sick, because I saw that Ülgas was serious. He’s completely mad. His eyes were shining, as if he were rabid! I lifted up my skirts and ran to Tambet and Mall’s place. Me, a fat old woman, my heart wanted to jump out of my mouth I was rushing so! Tambet and Mall were in front of their shack and I shouted even from far away: ‘Help, help, Ülgas has gone crazy. He wants to burn your daughter!’ And can you imagine: Tambet said that he knew. His face was completely gray as ash and he was hunched and stiff. Mall looked the same; her face was no longer human, and most horrible of all were their eyes: they didn’t seem to see anything; they stared out like dead fishes’ eyes. I screamed, ‘For pity’s sake, if you know it already, why don’t you do anything? Go and strike down that mad Ülgas or tie him up.’ But Tambet raised his hand and said that it had to be so. That they were ready to bring the biggest sacrifice of all, to save the ancient world and bring life back to the forest. I tell you it wasn’t a human voice that came out of his mouth; it was like a corpse talking. I don’t know what Ülgas had done to him. I screamed, ‘This is your own dear little daughter! Are you really going to let her have her throat cut like a hare?’ Then Mall bit her lips, so she wouldn’t burst into tears, but she didn’t say anything, and Tambet was quiet too, only staring into the distance.

“Then I screamed that Hiie is my son’s bride, but that drove Tambet into a rage; he came up to the fence and yelled at me that it was much better for Hiie to be sacrificed to the sprites and in that way save the old way of life than to start living with a traitor born in the village. ‘What life would she expect here?’ he screamed in my face. ‘I’d rather kill her with my own hands than give her to your son! Better for her a noble death, in the name of a better future for her people, than your son making her his own and moving to the village with that scoundrel, spitting on the bones of our forefathers!’ I saw that there was no talking to this man. He’s completely mad. I started crying and came home. Then we started looking for you, but you’d disappeared, and now it’s already evening and we have so little time. They’ll kill Hiie! They’ll kill your bride, Leemet! Tell me, what are you going to do?”

I really didn’t know what I should do. I only knew that I had to try to save Hiie. Of course she wasn’t my bride, but she was a sweet and dear girl and didn’t deserve such a gruesome end. Two mad old men wanted to bring her as a sacrifice for their own sick ramblings. It mustn’t be allowed to happen! No one could bring the olden times back to the forest, least of all the imaginary sprites. And even if these sprites really did exist, the death of one innocent girl was too high a price to pay for any miracle.

Hiie was my friend; we had grown up together. I had always felt sorry for her, because there is no greater misfortune than having a mother and father who don’t love you. They had always mauled and bullied her, but I would still never have believed they would want to kill her. Tambet and Ülgas were for me so evil that I felt an unexpected rush of rage; at that moment I could have torn their hearts out of their chests with my nails, beat their heads against a tree, ripped them to pieces. This terrible wave of hatred frightened me more than before, because usually I was such a bashful boy, the kind who would rather flee from his enemy into the bushes than seek a battle with him. But now I wanted war. I recalled how Uncle Vootele had, that time by the lake, gone on the attack against Ülgas, like an adder driven to rage. I yearned for my old grandfather’s fangs. I would have wanted to sink them into Ülgas’s and Tambet’s throats. I wanted to kill those bastards. Evidently the others also noticed that something strange was going on within me, for Mõmmi’s hackles were raised on his neck when he looked straight at me, and Mother and Salme shrieked in unison.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?” asked Mother. “Your face is so … strange!”

“Nothing wrong,” I replied, breathing in deeply. “I’m going to Tambet’s now and I’ll bring Hiie out.”

Mother and Salme shouted something to me, probably warning me to be careful, but I didn’t hear what they said. A rage was throbbing inside me. It seemed to have welled up from the depths of my body, and I had the feeling that I had discovered some secret cave within myself. Moss that had long lain dry was suddenly struck by a thunderbolt and was crackling ablaze. Into the dark evening sky I hissed a long sibilation that the adders use just before they strike their teeth into the body of their victim with lightning speed. Then I ran to Tambet’s hut.

It was dark and silent there. For a moment I listened at the door, then I leapt in. The shack was empty. There was no Tambet, Mall, or Hiie. So they must have already left. I would have to run like a wolf if I still wanted to save the girl.

I rushed into Tambet’s barn. The wolves were lying there side by side, but at the sight of me they leapt to their feet and started baying. I hissed the necessary Snakish words to them, the wolves fell silent, lowered their heads obediently, and I jumped onto the back of one of them and together we sped toward the sacred grove at breakneck pace.

Yes, they were already there. The flames were blazing. Ülgas was standing in the light of the fire, his arms raised heavenward, and Hiie crouched there like a little crumpled ball, Tambet and Mall like two stone statues a little way off.

On the wolf’s back I charged into the middle of the grove, which was actually a terrible desecration, since animals had no right to enter the sacred grove. Before they could comprehend it, I pulled Hiie to myself on the wolf’s back and hissed Snakish words meaning “run now as fast as you can!”

The wolf rushed away and behind my back I heard Tambet cursing me and Ülgas screaming in an unnatural, bloodcurdling voice. After a little while the noise abated. Along the forest path we raced at full gallop. It started to rain, and soon we were wet through. Hiie was unconscious; she hung limply over the wolf’s neck and was starting to slip downward. I hissed to the wolf to slacken his pace a little. Actually he would have done that anyway; two people were too much of a burden to him. Just at that moment we heard the baying of other wolves behind us.

These were Tambet’s wolves, and he sat on the back of the first of them; behind him galloped Ülgas, and they were gaining ground on us, as my wolf was tired and had to carry two people, while the wolf pack behind us was running without a load. It was clear that they were almost upon us, and I turned my face to my pursuers and hissed to the wolves through the ever-increasing rain a sibilation that would put them to sleep.

But the wolves did not fall asleep, their baying approached ever nearer, and I heard Ülgas screaming, “Hiss, oh hiss, pupil of the adders! These wolves won’t obey you! Their ears are stopped up with wax. You have no power over them!”

Pouring wax into the ears of animals was a disgusting and also dangerous trick, because it would not be possible to gouge out the wax, and in the future these wolves could never be guided in any way by Snakish words; from now on they would be their own masters and would do whatever they pleased. But in his blind hatred of me and his insatiable desire to cut Hiie’s throat, Ülgas was prepared to take this step. My wolf was now starting to stumble and I knew that soon the game would be up.

At that moment there galloped out of the thicket another wolf, which jumped alongside my steed and I saw, sitting on the wolf’s back, Mall.

“Turn left,” she said without looking at me, looking only at the unconscious Hiie, whom I was holding in my arms. “There is the sea. On the shore you’ll see some rocks; hidden behind the biggest one is a boat. Take it and go; then you’ll be saved.”

The next moment she led her own wolf into the bushes and was gone. There was no time to thank her for her good advice, and in the end Mall had only done a mother’s duty. She had never treated Hiie tenderly, but the sacrifice of her daughter was too much even for her.

I directed my wolf to the left and in a moment we were by the seashore.

For me it was a familiar place; just here, years ago, old Manivald the coast guard had been burned for his funeral. I saw the big rocks, and behind me I heard the wolves’ breathing and Ülgas’s fearful yelping. If Mall was wrong or lying, and there was no boat, they would catch me I knew. Summoning the last of its strength the wolf sped across the beach sand, straight toward the rocks.

There was a boat. I threw Hiie into it and pushed with all my might. The boat was sunk deep in the sand and didn’t want to leave the spot. I yelled in desperation, bit my lips hard, gathered all my strength — and got it to move. A moment later we were on the water. I found the oars in the bottom of the boat, and when the wolf pack, with Tambet and Ülgas, reached the shore, we were sloshing away at a safe distance.

Of course the wolves could have jumped into the water and tried to swim after us, but since their ears were stopped up with wax, they couldn’t be given the order, and naturally they didn’t want to voluntarily make themselves wet. But Ülgas and Tambet waded into the water, although the decrepit sage almost immediately stepped on a rock on the sea bottom and went sprawling. Tambet kept on wading until the water reached his chin, then started swimming furiously and far, but it was all in vain. The boat was much faster than the old man, and his bobbing head became ever smaller, until it merged with the darkness. However, we heard Tambet’s voice long afterward. “I’m coming after you!” he screamed. “I’ll find you, wherever you escape to! I’ll bring you back! I’ll catch you!”