(原版)澳大利亞語文第五冊 LESSON 7
LESSON 7 THE TROLL
THE TROLL
Ⅲ
ALAS ! alas! poor Ivan, you cannot breathe, but you dare not stop: run still, run faster yet, try to reach your father's hut: he alone may save you.
Without stopping to take breath, he ran. He lost himself in the dark wood; he fell, he rose, only to fall again; and still he thought he heard the halloo of the trolls, while really it was guilty fear that was chasing him.
Ivan! Ivan! shouted Christian, "why are you afraid? It is only Sigfrid with his mother's basket on his head. It is all a joke. Ivan! Ivan!"
The echoes of the forest repeated "Ivan! Ivan!" Hearing his name echoed from every side, the poor boy quite lost his wits. He ran still faster and still farther away.
Christian and Sigfrid stood for a little, laughing at his fright, but, as they could not wait all day, they set off for the father's hut, gathering big pine cones ［1］ by the way.
Good day, my children, and welcome; but why is not Ivan here to embrace me to-day?
He was coming, father, and we were quite happy; but in the dark wood he was seized with fear. ‘I see the troll,’ he cried, ‘he is going to devour me!’ I tried to tell him that it was our friend Sigfrid, but he ran off faster than the roebuck of the woods. I cried ‘Ivan!’ till the echoes called back again, but he paid no heed."
Alas! thought the charcoal-burner, "what has the boy on his mind to frighten him like that?"
At this moment Ivan arrived. His face burned like a fire, his limbs were trembling, his clothes were in strips, and his feet were bleeding. He fell on his knees.
Father, father! defend me! I have seen trolls, hundreds of them. They are chasing me, they want to carry me away with them! and all is so dark away there in the forest!
My son, my child, said the charcoal- burner, placing his hand on the burning forehead of the little one, "what grave fault have you committed to-day?"
Fault!—father—how do you know?
Child, when the heart is free from guilt, when one has done no wrong to his brothers, he has no fear of evil beings. It matters not to him that it is very dark in the forest. He walks without fear. The trolls exist only for the guilty. I have lived here many long years, and things have always gone well with me. I have never done hurt or wrong to any one, and I have never been afraid of the wicked dwarfs that make you tremble."
Striking his bosom with his hands, and burying his face in the grass, little Ivan then confessed his fault. He begged pardon of his father, and also of his brother, for having let him be suspected.
By and by they set out for home, and, as soon as he entered the house, Ivan threw himself at the feet of his old blind grandmother.
Pardon me, he begged, "pardon your wicked Ivan, and I promise to be good and true like my brother Christian."
Delighted to hear her little boy confess his fault, the blind woman pressed him to her heart, and dried his tears with tender kisses.
* * *
［1 ］ pine cone: The fruit of pine trees.
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