Waltey
Maščevanje Josiaha Breeza
117 The Revenge of Josiah Breeze
Myths and Legends of Our Own Land · Charles M. SkinnerO besedilu
Maščevanje Josiaha Breeza
- Vir
- Myths and Legends of Our Own Land
- Avtor
- Charles M. Skinner
- Jezik branja
- Slovenščina
- Jezik izvirnika
- English
- Čas branja
- 6 min branja
- Obseg
- 5 strani
- Naslov izvirnika
- 117 The Revenge of Josiah Breeze
O izvirniku
Myths and Legends of Our Own Land
Obsežna zgodovinska zbirka ameriških legend, ki jih je Skinner zbral in avtorsko rekonstruiral. Bralni jezik je Slovenščina, izvirnik pa prihaja iz vira Myths and Legends of Our Own Land v jeziku English.
Besedilo
Maščevanje Josiaha Breeza
Dva tisoč ribičev s polotoka Cape Cod se je pridružilo kolonialni vojski in med njihovo odsotnostjo so britanske ladje prihajale k obali ter izkrcavale posadke, ki so hodile delat škodo. Na polotoku ni bilo moškega, ženske ali otroka, ki ne bi sovražil vojakov in mornarjev kralja Jurija in ne bi storil vsega, da bi jim škodoval. Ko je leta 1778 pri Truru doživela brodolom ladja Somerset, so posadki resda pomagali na kopno, a so jo nemudoma odgnali v zapor. Ljudje so menili, da si nobena druga fregata ne bo več drznila približati se premikajočim se sipinam, kjer je Somerset pustila svoje okostje, kakor že marsikatera dobra ladja pred njo in tudi pozneje. Bil je november in bližalo se je slabo vreme, ko so opazili, da je tripalubna vojna ladja, ki je pod rdečo zastavo križarila pred obalo, med krajšanjem jader začela divje zanašati, nato pa jo je s polomljeno krmilno ročico odneslo proti kopnemu. Na strmih bregovih niso dvignili nobenega opozorilnega znamenja; nihče ni niti mignil, da bi ji priskočil na pomoč. Tisti, ki so videli nezgodo, so z mrkim zadovoljstvom opazovali bližajočo se ladjo in niso nehali pričakovati nesreče niti tedaj, ko je vrgla sidro in pospravila jadra.
Ezekiel in Josiah Breeze, oče in sin, sta stala pred vrati svoje koče in opazovala ladjo v nevarnosti, dokler niso le še tri luči, ki so medlo migetale skozi sivino snežnega meteža, kazale, kje leži sovražnik, napenja sidrne vrvi in se premetava na razbesnelem morju. Dolgo sta molče stala, nazadnje pa je fant vzkliknil: »Na ladjo grem.«
»Če se premakneš od tod, nisi več moj sin,« je rekel Ezekiel. »Ampak v nevarnosti je, oče.« »Saj je prav tako. Do jutra bo raztresena vzdolž obale in niti en drog ne bo več kazal, kje se zdaj ziblje.«
»Kaj pa možje?« »To je božja kazen, fant.« Mladenič se je spomnil, kako so mornarji z Ajaxa prišli na kopno zažigat domove miroljubnih ribičev in kmetov; kako so žalili ženske; kako so njegovi prijatelji in tovariši na Long Islandu padali pod britanskim svincem in jeklom; kako ga je rdečelični možakar, ki ga je zalotil pri plenjenju svojega vrta in ga skušal odgnati, s sabljo udaril po rami. Takrat je prisegel, da se bo maščeval. Toda pustiti, da množica ljudi utone, ne da bi jim ponudil roko v pomoč — je bilo to pravično maščevanje? »Moram iti, oče,« je planilo iz njega. »Jutri zjutraj bo na obali ležalo petsto obrazov, obrnjenih navzgor, prekritih z ledom in zazrtih v nebo, in petsto mater v Angliji se bo spraševalo, kdaj bodo spet videle te obraze. Če bi me kdaj pogledali, mi pogled nanje ne bi nikoli več izginil izpred oči. Preganjali bi me v budnosti in spanju. In jutri je zahvalni dan. Moram iti, oče, in tudi bom.« S temi besedami je stekel proč in izginil v temi.
Oče je strmel za njim; nato so se mu čustva nenadoma preobrnila in zaklical je: »Prav imaš, 'Siah. S tabo grem.« Toda tudi če bi bil njegov glas grmel kakor grom, ga v tuljenju vetra in bučanju valov ne bi bilo slišati. Ko je prišel do obale, je na svetlikajoči se peni medlo razločil nekaj, kar se je vzpenjalo na vodni hrib; izginilo je za njegovim vrhom in se spet prikazalo na naslednjem valu; za hip se je pokazalo še na tretjem valu, nato pa izginilo v noč. »Josiah!« Bil je dolg, tožeč krik. Nobenega odgovora. Čez pol ure je nekaj priplavalo mimo moža, ki je čakal na peščeni obali, in s treskom obležalo ob njem — čoln, obrnjen z dnom navzgor: čoln njegovega sina.
Naslednji dan se je zdanilo v jasno jutro, tla pa je prekrival svež sneg. Kapitan Breeze je bil v svoji hiši v Provincetownu že zgodaj pokonci, saj so na družinsko srečanje prihajali njegov sin Ezekiel, vnuk Josiah in vsi drugi sorodniki, ki niso bili z Washingtonom na bojišču. Rejeni purani so bili pripravljeni za pečenje, ob peči so stali veliki hlebci kruha in kolači, imenitne bučne in jabolčne pite pa so polnile zrak z omamnimi vonjavami. Ljudje so se zbirali ob njegovem prijetnem ognju in kramljali o škodi, ki jo je povzročilo neurje, ko je v hišo opotekaje se vstopil Ezekiel, zdelanega zagorelega obraza, drhtečih ustnic in tresočih se rok. »Josiah!« je izgovoril z zadušenim glasom, nato pa se z rokami naslonil na kamin in vanje zakopal obraz. Med ribiči, katerih življenje je vsak dan v nevarnosti, nesrečo hitro razumejo, in starec je položil roko sinu na ramo ter sklonil glavo. Dan veselja je postal dan žalosti. Ko se je novica razširila, se je hiša začela polniti s sočutnimi prijatelji in po sobah so se razlegali pridušeni pogovori, ko je bilo zunaj slišati presenečen vzklik. V pristanišče se je prebijala ladja, vklenjena v tone ledu, njene palube pa so bile polne mornarjev v modrih suknjičih; nekateri so z nižjih drogov in vrvja odbijali zamrznjene gmote. Plovni poti je sledila tako zanesljivo, da je bilo očitno, kako vešča roka jo krmari; spustila je sidro in se obrnila s tokom plime. »Ajax, pri moji grešni duši!« je vzkliknil neki mornar na obali. Od ladje je odrinil čoln in na pomolu so se jezno zbrali ljudje ter govorili, da je treba po puške, ko se je na krmi dvignila deška postava in so jo pozdravili vzkliki presenečenja in dobrodošlice.
Čoln se je dotaknil obale, Josiah Breeze je skočil iz njega in že naslednji hip ga je oče stiskal v medvedjem objemu, ne da bi skušal ustaviti solze, ki so mu privrele iz oči. Za Josiahom je na kopno stopil častnik, pristopil k zbranim in rekel: »Na tega fanta ste lahko ponosni. Odplul je na morje, ki bi se ga le redkokateri mož drznil lotiti, da bi rešil sovražnikovo ladjo in jo pripeljal v pristanišče. Najmanj, kar sem lahko storil, je bilo, da sem ga pripeljal nazaj.« Sledile so pohvale, smeh in stiski rok, in ko so na mizo postavili vročo večerjo za zahvalni dan, je bil poveljnik ladje njegovega veličanstva Ajax med najvedrejšimi gosti za mizo kapitana Breezea.
Izvirnik
117 The Revenge of Josiah Breeze
Naslednje strani prikazujejo izvirno besedilo za primerjavo.
Two thousand Cape Cod fishermen had gone to join the colonial army, and in their absence the British ships had run in shore to land crews on mischievous errands. No man, woman, or child on the Cape but hated the troops and sailors of King George, and would do anything to work them harm. When the Somerset was wrecked off Truro, in 1778, the crew were helped ashore, 'tis true, but they were straightway marched to prison, and it was thought that no other frigate would venture near the shifting dunes where she had laid her skeleton, as many a good ship had done before and has done since. It was November, and ugly weather was shutting in, when a three-decker, that had been tacking off shore and that flew the red flag, was seen to yaw wildly while reefing sail and drift toward land with a broken tiller. No warning signal was raised on the bluffs; not a hand was stirred to rescue. Those who saw the accident watched with sullen satisfaction the on-coming of the vessel, nor did they cease to look for disaster when the ship anchored and stowed sail.
Ezekiel and Josiah Breeze, father and son, stood at the door of their cottage and watched her peril until three lights twinkling faintly through the gray of driving snow were all that showed where the enemy lay, straining at her cables and tossing on a wrathful sea. They stood long in silence, but at last the boy exclaimed, “I'm going to the ship.”
“If you stir from here, you're no son of mine,” said Ezekiel.
“But she's in danger, dad.”
“As she oughter be. By mornin' she'll be strewed along the shore and not a spar to mark where she's a-swingin' now.”
“And the men?”
“It's a jedgment, boy.”
The lad remembered how the sailors of the Ajax had come ashore to burn the homes of peaceful fishermen and farmers; how women had been insulted; how his friends and mates had been cut down at Long Island with British lead and steel; how, when he ran to warn away a red-faced fellow that was robbing his garden, the man had struck him on the shoulder with a cutlass. He had sworn then to be revenged. But to let a host go down to death and never lift a helping hand--was that a fair revenge? “I've got to go, dad,” he burst forth. “Tomorrow morning there'll be five hundred faces turned up on the beach, covered with ice and staring at the sky, and five hundred mothers in England will wonder when they're goin' to see those faces again. If ever they looked at me the sight of 'em would never go out of my eyes. I'd be harnted by 'em, awake and asleep. And to-morrow is Thanksgiving. I've got to go, dad, and I will.” So speaking, he rushed away and was swallowed in the gloom.
The man stared after him; then, with a revulsion of feeling, he cried, “You're right, 'Siah. I'll go with you.” But had he called in tones of thunder he would not have been heard in the roar of the wind and crash of the surf. As he reached the shore he saw faintly on the phosphorescent foam a something that climbed a hill of water; it was lost over its crest and reappeared on the wave beyond; it showed for a moment on the third wave, then it vanished in the night. “Josiah!” It was a long, querulous cry. No answer. In half an hour a thing rode by the watcher on the sands and fell with a crash beside him--a boat bottom up: his son's.
Next day broke clear, with new snow on the ground. In his house at Provincetown, Captain Breeze was astir betimes, for his son Ezekiel, his grandson Josiah, and all other relatives who were not at the front with Washington were coming for the family reunion. Plump turkeys were ready for the roasting, great loaves of bread and cake stood beside the oven, redoubtable pies of pumpkin and apple filled the air with maddening odors. The people gathered and chattered around his cheery fire of the damage that the storm had done, when Ezekiel stumbled in, his brown face haggard, his lips working, and a tremor in his hands. He said, “Josiah!” in a thick voice, then leaned his arms against the chimney and pressed his face upon them. Among fishermen whose lives are in daily peril the understanding of misfortune is quick, and the old man put his hand on the shoulder of his son and bent his head. The day of joy was become a day of gloom. As the news went out, the house began to fill with sympathizing friends, and there was talking in low voices through the rooms, when a cry of surprise was heard outside. A ship, cased in tons of ice, was forging up the harbor, her decks swarming with blue jackets, some of whom were beating off the frozen masses from lower spars and rigging. She followed the channel so steadily, it was plain to be seen that a wise hand was at her helm; her anchor ran out and she swung on the tide. “The Ajax, as I'm a sinner!” exclaimed a sailor on shore. A boat put off from her, and people angrily collected at the wharf, with talk of getting out their guns, when a boyish figure arose in the stern, and was greeted with a shout of surprise and welcome.
The boat touched the beach, Josiah Breeze leaped out of it, and in another minute his father had him in a bear's embrace, making no attempt to stop the tears that welled out of his eyes. An officer had followed Josiah on shore, and going to the group he said, “That boy is one to be proud of. He put out in a sea that few men could face, to save an enemy's ship and pilot it into the harbor. I could do no less than bring him back.” There was praise and laughter and clasping of hands, and when the Thanksgiving dinner was placed, smoking, on the board, the commander of H. M. S. Ajax was among the jolliest of the guests at Captain Breeze's table.
Nadaljuj z branjem
Morda ti bo všeč tudi
Oče in sin
Myths and Legends of Our Own Land · 3 min branja
3 skupnih tagov
Divji mož s Cape Coda
Myths and Legends of Our Own Land · 2 min branja
3 skupnih tagov
Vožnja kapitana Iresona
Myths and Legends of Our Own Land · 3 min branja
3 skupnih tagov
Opica in delfin
Ezopove basni · 1 min branja
3 skupnih tagov