Tug of War by Jonas Lye. For the last two or three days the
weather had been terrific. But on the third day it was so far cleared
up that one of the men who belonged to the fishing station thought that they
might manage to drag the nets a bit that day. The others, however,
were not inclined to venture out. Now, it is the custom for
various crews to land each other a hand in pushing off the boats, and
so it happened now. When, however, they came to the femborking,
which was drawn up a good distance ashore, they found the oars and thwarts
turned upside down in the boat. And more than that, despite all their
exertions, it was impossible to move the boat from the spot. They tried
once, twice thrice, but it was of no use. But then one
of them, who was known to have second sight, said that from what
he saw, it would be best not to touch the boat at all that
day it was too heavy for the might of man to move. One of
the crew, however, who belonged to the fishing station, he was a
smart lad of fourteen, was amusing them all the time with all manner of
pranks and tomfoolery. He now caught up a heavy stone and pitched it with
all his might right into the stern of the boat. Then, suddenly,
and plainly visible to them all out of the boat rushed a drog in seaman's
clothes, but with a heavy crop of seaweed instead of a head. It
had been weighing down the boat by sitting in the stern, and now dashed
into the sea, so that the foam spurted all over them. After that,
the fembourging glided quite smoothly into the water. Then the man was second
sight looked at the boy and said that he should not have done so.
But the lad went on laughing as before, and said he didn't believe in
such stuff. When they had come home in the evening, and the folks
lay asleep in the fishing station, they heard about twelve o'clock at night,
the lad yelling for help. It even seemed to one of them by the
light of the train oil lamp, as if a heavy hand were stretching forward
from the door right up to the bench on which the lad lay. The
lad, yelling and struggling, had already been dragged as far as the door
before the others had so far come to their senses as to think to grasp
him around the body to prevent him from being dragged right out. And now
in mid doorway a hard fight began. The drag dragged him by the legs,
while the whole crew tugged against him with the boy's arms and upper limbs.
Thus, amidst yelling and groaning, they swayed to and fro all through
the midnight hour, backwards and forwards in the half open door. And now
the drog, and now the men had the most of the boy on their
side of the doorway. All at once the drog let go, so that
the whole crew fell hagglety pigglety backwards on the floor. Then they found that
the boy was dead. It was only then that the drog had let him
go. The end of Tug of War by Jonas Lye