Johansen

“ He looked along the airy path he must traverse, and then down to the deck. His eyes were wide and staring, and he was trembling violently. I had never seen fear so strongly stamped upon a human face. Johansen called vainly for him to come down. At any moment he was liable to be snapped off the gaff, but he was helpless with fright. Wolf Larsen, walking up and down with Smoke and in conversation, took no more notice of him, though he cried sharply, once, to the man at the wheel:
"You're off your course, my man! Be careful, unless you're looking for trouble!" ”

“ I have looked upon all that the universe has to hold of horror, and even the skies of spring and the flowers of summer must ever afterward be poison to me. But I do not think my life will be long. As my uncle went, as poor Johansen went, so I shall go. I know too much, and the cult still lives. ”

“ I heard Wolf Larsen's voice, which came to me from around the corner of the galley. "Stand from under, you, Johansen! Watch out! Here she comes!"
In truth, Harrison was very sick, as a person is seasick; and for a long time he clung to his precarious perch without attempting to move. Johansen, however, continued violently to urge him on to the completion of his task.
"It is a shame," I heard Johnson growling in painfully slow and correct English. He was standing by the main rigging, a few feet away from me. "The boy is willing enough. He will learn if he has a chance. ”

“ I'm only a boat-puller, and you're only a boat-puller, too, Emil Johansen, for all your twenty-two years at sea. Why don't you become a boat-steerer?"
"Too clumsy," laughed the Englishman, "and too slow."
"Little that counts, one way or the other," joined in Dane Jurgensen, coming to the aid of his Scandinavian brother. "Emil is a man grown and an able seaman; the boy is neither."
And so the argument raged back and forth, the Swedes, Norwegians and Danes, because of race kinship, taking the part of Johansen, and the English, Canadians and Americans taking the part of Chris. ”

“ If it was the English expedition to Franz Josef Land which had been in contemplation when we started, what should we do? ‘Oh, we’ll just have to remain with them a day or two,’ said Johansen, ‘and then we’ll have to go on to Spitzbergen, else it will be too long before we get home.’ We were quite agreed on this point; but we would take care to get some good provisions for the voyage out of them. While I went on, Johansen was to stay behind and mind the kayaks, so that we should run no [527] risk of their drifting away with the ice. I got out my snow-shoes, glass, and gun, and was ready. ”

“ They had thrown away the tent, and instead they crept in between the sledges covered with the sail. Once Nansen came down when on skis, and would have been drowned if Johansen had not helped him up in time. The snow lying on this ice was soaked with water. They had always to keep their eyes open and look for firm ice. The provisions came to an end, but the sea swarmed with walruses. ”

“ There was a mighty eddying and foaming in the noisome brine, and as the steam mounted higher and higher the brave Norwegian drove his vessel head on against the pursuing jelly which rose above the unclean froth like the stern of a demon galleon. The awful squid-head with writhing feelers came nearly up to the bowsprit of the sturdy yacht, but Johansen drove on relentlessly.
There was a bursting as of an exploding bladder, a slushy nastiness as of a cloven sunfish, a stench as of a thousand opened graves, and a sound that the chronicler would not put on paper. ”

“ Nevan returned the scrutiny, waiting.
"I'm Kim Johansen, of SecuDiv," the Marine said at last. "You're Vance DarLowrie, just in on the Last Resort?"
Nevan nodded. "I am, Captain Johansen. What of it?"
"If you're what rumor calls you and your ship's name implies, I'd advise you to lay low. The Baron here takes a dim view of assassins."
"Most people do, except those who have need of one. I thank you for your concern, though; I will be careful."
"Good." Johansen sipped at his drink, frowned. "A warrior of your clan saved my life during the war. ”

“ Johansen, thank God, did not know quite all, even though he saw the city and the Thing, but I shall never sleep calmly again when I think of the horrors that lurk ceaselessly behind life in time and in space, and of those unhallowed blasphemies from elder stars which dream beneath the sea, known and favored by a nightmare cult ready and eager to loose them on the world whenever another earthquake shall heave their monstrous stone city again to the sun and air. ”

“ Johansen, I believe, did not wear his new coat before we fell in with other people. He declared he must keep it fresh till we arrived in Norway; he could not go about like a pirate when he got among his countrymen again. The poor remains of underclothes that we possessed had, of course, to be thoroughly washed before we started, so that it should be possible to move in them without their rasping too many holes in our skin. The washing we accomplished as above described. Our foot-gear was in anything but a satisfactory condition. Socks, indeed, we could make of bearskin ”

“ Nansen and Johansen, in an attempt to reach the Pole, left the Fram March 14, 1895, in about 84° N., 100 E., but after an uneventful journey with dogs, they were obliged to turn back on April 7, 1895, in latitude 86° 14' N. They aimed to reach Spitzbergen and after months of weary effort and varying fortunes, these two hardy men landed on the east coast of the Franz Josef archipelago. Coming winter forbade further progress, so they constructed a hut and subsisted on land and sea game that was fortunately abundant. ”

“ As one sits there on the kayak, waiting and waiting, and gazing in front of one into solitude, many strange thoughts pass through one’s brain. Several times he climbed the highest hummock near at hand to scan the ice anxiously; and then, when at last he discovered a little black speck moving about on the white flat surface far, far away, his mind would be relieved. As Johansen was waiting in this way yesterday, he remarked that the sides of the floe in front of him were slowly moving up and down,3 as they might if rocked by a slight swell. Can open water be near? ”

“ We must have got into a hole where the ice grinds round and round, and can’t get farther. And the time is passing all to no purpose; and goodness only knows how long this sort of thing may go on. If only a good south wind would come and drive us north out of this hobble! The boys have taken up the rudder again to-day. While they were working at this in the afternoon, it suddenly grew as bright as day. A strange fireball [297] crossed the sky in the west—giving a bluish-white light, they said. Johansen ran down to the saloon to tell Hansen and me ”

“ Johanson had said to the pastor, who was now in his full confidence. They knew each other as the Alf and Lars of the olden time. They knew each other now as forgiven sinners, each striving in his own way to work for the glory of the Master's kingdom. Each felt that he was indebted to the other. The stable-boy's words, "The duties are the same whether you make the promises or not," had lingered in the mind of the wanderer in the midst of the lowest depths of sin, and had brought him home at last to try to make the promises firmly resolved to keep them. ”

“ The cellar-master was a late sleeper. He woke now to see Johanson hurrying about, evidently making ready for a trip. [Pg 137]
"What are you doing? You are letting the cold in here, sir," said the old fellow, only half awake.
"The poet is missing. He didn't come home last night. I shall go and look him up. Have you any whisky? You have, I know. I saw Gull bring you in a bottle last night. Let me have it, will you?"
"Yes; a pull will keep you up," was the answer.
"I don't want it for me," said Johanson hastily; "it has pulled me down low enough. I'll never taste it again. ”

“ He save him can."
In Johanson there still was life. He had been found lying close to the dead poet, as if trying to share with him his little remaining vital warmth. The doctor, the pastor's wife, and Gull were soon doing all that was possible to call him back to life. In a few days he was almost well, for broken down though he was, he still had some of the vigour of his naturally strong constitution.
The funeral was over. Johanson was apparently dozing, lying on his sofa, now in its form for the day; while Gull and the cellar-master were chatting together in low, whispering tones. ”

“ The whole of that memorable Sunday Johnsen had spent in pacing up and down his room, repeating to himself different parts of his sermon. Some of his thoughts he had managed to express clearly enough, while others might have been a little more incisive; but on the whole he was satisfied. He was not satisfied in the sense that he thought he had accomplished a great work, but he was so far satisfied that he now felt that he had room to breathe. Wind in one's sails, even if it is a storm, is preferable to a dead calm. What emotions he must have stirred in many a careless soul! ”

“ Still Johannes did not heed these signs, but only thought how cruelly he had been hurt by those men; it was as though a cold hard hand had been laid on his inmost secret soul. 'They shall believe me yet!' thought he. 'I will fetch my little key and show it to them.'
'Johannes, Johannes!' called a tiny voice. There was a bird's nest in a holly bush and Wistik's big eyes peeped out over the edge of it. 'Where are you off to?'
'It is all your fault!' said Johannes. 'Leave me in peace.'
'What took you to talk with men? Men can never understand you. Why do you tell men such things? ”

“ They did, and were established as better friends than before.
The weather had become extremely cold, but the poorhouse poet went on his rounds, persisting in being dressed as in the autumn.
It had been snowing all night, and the cold was excessive. Johanson was awakened by an unusual chill in the air. A long point of snow lay along the floor of his room, as it had drifted in under the not over-tight door. He dressed and hurried out. The vestibule was one snow-bank, and the outside door was wide open. He pushed his way into the poet's room. It was empty. ”

“ Git!’
“‘Cape Horn h——,” he went on to Johnnie. ‘That ain’t nothing but a bleeding old penguin, and may the devil take his infernal soul.’
“Johnnie didn’t know any more than he did before he spoke, so he kept looking out of the clew of his eye to windward while he worked. The mate was strange and queer when he heard that cry. I don’t know what it was, but it sounded like some one calling out of that great blackness. Jensen went below, and when he came on deck I smelled rum on his breath. ”

“ The pastor had noticed, naturally, that Johanson had not been forward to the Lord's Supper even when the cellar-master had been helped up the aisle from the poorhouse seat near the door, and Gull and the half-mad poet had decorously followed. At this he had hardly been surprised, for there were other members of the congregation who did not communicate more than once a year. The good man felt a sudden repulsion towards the stranger still without the Christian pale. ”

“ And the calm, deep sea received into its bosom all the light of heaven and earth and redoubled their splendour.
Johanan lay and gazed without taking into account what he saw, but he was inundated with the surrounding splendour. And suddenly his lips began to murmur, “Bless the Lord, O my soul. O Lord, my God, Thou art very great; thou art clothed with honour and majesty. Who coverest Thyself with light as with a garment; who stretchest out the heavens like a curtain.”
Thus he murmured and his spirit was not with him. He did not know what issued from his lips. ”

“ It's very fine to be called 'cellar-master' when you sit fast in the poorhouse; but it's a bad business dragging people down. Think what Alf was and see what he is! I don't want to talk any more to-day. You go, Gull. I've got something to think about."
Johanson, lost in his own thoughts, had not noticed the whispered conversation till his own name of the past was mentioned. ”

“ Johan had no other idea in his head when he rose in the morning than the day's work, the same as it was yesterday, and would be to-morrow; no other thought when he returned from it in the [Pg 26] evening than that Frudchen had his supper ready for him, that little Wilhelm and Johan would run to meet him, and that little Rosechen, the baby, would crow out of her cradle at him, if awake, and that after his supper he would just walk down to the "Gold Apfel," and smoke a pipe with Karl and Caspar as usual. ”

“ Elves do not love the daughters of men.'
'But it was Windekind,' Johannes stammered out in his bewilderment. But Pluizer flew into a terrible rage and his bony fingers gripped Johannes by the ears.
'What folly is this? Would you try to frighten me with that whippersnapper thing? He is a greater simpleton than Wistik—much greater. He knows nothing at all. And what is worse, he does not exist in any sense, and never has existed. I only exist, do you understand? And if you do not believe me, I will let you feel what I am.' And he shook the hapless Johannes by the ears. ”

“ With his confirmation class the pastor was different. He was fond of young people. He had [Pg 125] been young himself, and had not forgotten the circumstance.
He was getting a little impatient to see the fresh faces he was expecting at the first meeting of the class, when Johanson made his appearance, bowed distantly, and took the seat nearest the door. He had passed through a knot of young people without, who were, with some cuffing and shoving, contending who should go in first on this to them august occasion. ”