Barr The Gods Give My Donkey Wings

1. Auflage 2024
ISBN: 978-1-84391-897-4
Verlag: Hesperus Press Ltd.
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 104 Seiten

Embark on a journey with a humble packman and his loyal donkey as they pass through the mountaintop town known as the Thorpe. In this captivating tale of adventure and discovery, they bear witness to the peculiar events unfolding within the confines of this Utopia/dystopia. As they navigate the intricate layers of Thorpe's society, they encounter a cast of characters both fascinating and formidable. Join them as they unravel the secrets of Thorpe and confront the truths that lie hidden beneath its seemingly idyllic facade. The Gods Give My Donkey Wings is a blend of fantasy and introspection, offering readers a thought-provoking exploration of utopian ideals and the complexities of human nature.

James Barr, a Canadian writer and journalist, who lived in England from 1883 and until his death in 1923 Under the pseudonym Angus Evan Abbott, he wrote numerous science fiction and fantasy stories, such as 'The Last Englishman' and The Witchery of the Serpent. He also worked for some time at the Detroit Free Press with his brother, writer Robert Barr.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Barr, James

Leseproben

Chapter 1

Evening was upon the land when I made out the collection of thatched cottages for which I had been in search this many a day. Early in the forenoon I had stopped to allow my weary ass to drink from the brim of a pool at the foot of a fall, and myself to bathe feet in the cool waters. It proved a harsh climb before we reached the plateau across which the river wound its course, but the top once gained I knew myself to be on the verge of a discovery.

Ahead a great mountain pierced the clouds, its mutch of snow drawn tightly around its head and tied under its chin by two ribbon-like glaciers, which, as I guessed, fed the bustling little river along whose bank I now led my patient donkey. The mountain, it seemed to me, looked down upon the valley with considerable good humour, and as I plodded along I could see the deep shadows of evening playing on its gigantic shoulders like the battalions of a mighty army manœuvring for a favourable position. The sun had disappeared by the time I reached the Thorp, but a gentle breeze, blowing up from the plain, tempered the air of the mountain to sweetness with its fragrant balm. By the people I was kindly received. There appeared to be much disputing as to which of them should have the honours, as they were good enough to consider it, of entertaining me, there being no inn or other house of public hospitality in the place. However, the matter was soon settled, for the good people saw that my ass and I were weary, and I was taken in hand by a handsome, strapping, fairfaced young man who led me with many signs of goodwill to a house, wherein I found a woman, she might be some few years older than mine host, and three fairhaired, round-faced children. As I had feared, the good people could not understand me, although I addressed them in many tongues. This was like to prove of some inconvenience to me, a packman, with a healthy itch for gossip.

My pack safely indoors,—be it known a packman’s first thoughts are for his stock in trade, then for his ass, and lastly for himself—the grime of travel washed away, I sat me down to an abundant table which the good-wife had prepared for me. About me all was clean to a fault. The floors were polished until I grew suspicious of my red leather slippers, the platters of beaten copper were burnished to the reflective powers of a Christian’s mirror, and the table of white wood reflected the light of the taper which burned fitfully by my elbow. I could see that cleanliness was the good woman’s god, and as a packman must ever humour the whims of the people, I made a note to have my slippers handy and to remove my shoes at the door, like a heathen worshipper, before entering her house. I think this little thoughtfulness won me the woman’s good opinion.

When I had eaten my fill and drunk to my hostess in a good flagon of home brew, my host took me by the hand and led me out into the one street of the place. It was a narrow thoroughfare paved with cobblestones, with on either side a row of houses, each leaning comfortably against its neighbour, their great, overhanging, thatched eaves alive with twittering swallows, and their windows blinking blandly across the way. The people, too, appeared to be hugely sociable, for the men of them sat on wooden benches under the eaves in groups, gossiping and cracking jokes, and swigging great mugs of their brew; and the women stood together with weans of all sizes and ages romping about their knees, talking too and enjoying the cool of the evening. Mine host, with every manifestation of civility, led me down the street, introducing me as I took it, to group after group, who all stood up when I bowed to them, and took off their reed-braid bats to me. They were, as a body, splendid men, the copper of the open air on their cheeks; the clear light of mountain views in their eyes: broad-chested, loose jointed, and frank of face. Honest men there could be no doubt, frugal and sober in their habits, and in their souls a wholesome fear for the gods.

Now as all people well know, a packman is accustomed to take note of the little things that indicate to the thoughtful mind great things; for to him, people, be they merry, or be they sad, fain would present but one aspect of feeling. And if he is to view life with its varying lights and shadows, he must be on the alert to note the small, and reason thence in a logical way until he arrives at the great. And this evening as I walked between the groups of people, I quickly became aware of a sense of unrest pervading the Thorp. The impression soon became strong on my mind that something had disturbed, or threatened to disturb, the quiet of the place. The very goats that frequented the street seemed to have caught the fidgets and continued to lie down, chew their cud for a short time, and get up only to lie down and chew their cud again. That something untoward had happened, or was about to happen, I felt in my bones; but what this something might be was, of course, out of my power to divine. Whether the subdued excitement was of a pleasurable kind or no I could not quite make out from the faces of the people, for the different groups looked upon the matter in wholly different ways. The young men of mine host type seemed to treat whatever the question or matter might be with considerable contempt, as something unworthy of general discussion, and they drank their beer lustily. On the other hand, the old men sat with grave faces and smoked solemnly their long reed pipes, touching but little liquor, and occasionally shaking their hoary heads the one at the other. But it is to the women I turn for anything in the way of palaver. I found that they were discussing the situation with more vehemence than I could have credited, taking into account their cheery faces and buxom proportions. They stood in knots of eight or maybe ten, and all spoke at once at a tremendous rate and then fell into silence, looking at each other with looks which said that truly the strangest things imaginable happen in this world.

We strolled down the street my host and I, and as we passed along he said a cheerful word here and made a kindly inquiry there; but as we walked I could see that, were it not for the promptings of hospitality, he would long ere this have seated himself to his pipe and mug, to add to the weight of argument his opinions on the question that was causing such a stir. So I took an early opportunity to make him understand that I would, with him, join a group of fellows towards whom he had been casting wistful glances. An expression of pleasure stole into his honest face, and seating me, he brought for me a pipe and a mug of reaming brew, and himself sat down happy. With my face to the mountain I could do nothing but gaze at the marvellous scene. Soft darkness had fallen upon the valley and plain below us, but the sun’s rays crawling up the side of the mountain struck the ice cap with a million javelins of candicant light until the ice and snow sparkled and dazzled like a crust of jagged diamonds. The great cap high in the blue dome bristled and scintillated and buzzed with brilliant fires.

At first the men around me spoke but little, as is the wont of Arcadians when a stranger comes into their midst; but seeing me wrapt in the grandeur of the scene spread out before me, they fell into passing jocular remarks and clinking their earthen mugs, and it was not long before the hum of pleasant conversation told me that they were at last feeling at home in my presence. I strained my ear to catch one word at all familiar to me, but recognize one I could not. So I settled myself down to enjoy a smoke and rest after my weary days of travel, and to accustom my ears to the strange tongue. That I would soon pick up the language of the people, I had no doubt. One skilled in many languages easily acquires an additional tongue.

I had been comfortably seated but a short while, and the strangeness of my company had only time in a degree to wear from the minds of my companions, when a woman, one of a cluster standing near to our table suddenly stretched out her red arm and pointed down the way. Instantly all eyes were turned in the direction, and the next moment a hum of excitement and mutterings ran along either side of the street. The women snatched their children into their arms, and the men discreetly put their huge beakers out of sight under the benches and straightened their backs into a stiffer and more respectful attitude. What in the world could be approaching! In foreign parts, more especially in remote niches among mountains, one never can guess what strange creatures are indigenous. I rapidly glanced in the direction towards which the woman pointed, more than half expecting, if the truth be told, to find some monster of the mountain, some ogre or giant-of-one-eye, with maybe a head or two of his own on his shoulders, a half dozen of other folk’s at his girdle, and a great bludgeon in his hand, come swinging down the street. But no! Instead of monster or giant or dragon, all I saw was a group of three marching towards us in the middle of the way; a man and two women, or, to put them in the order in which they traveled, a woman and a man and woman. Certainly nothing here to fear, and nothing to cause excitement. But excitement the pedestrians did cause. So far as I could judge every man, woman, and child watched the progress of the three with a degree of interest curious to note. As they approached, I saw group after group arise from the tables, and first making a deep reverence to...