Speaker 1: 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 lend each other a hand in pushing off the boats,
and so it happened now. When, however, they came to
the Fenenbourging, 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 with 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 drog 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 heiggelty 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