Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - The Nygård Peasant Girl
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Ah, that dark thing under the hillside, it is not
an ant-hill, but an overturned tree! Praised be
Heaven, only an overturned tree ! But one cannot
see very well where the fir trees stand so closely
together.
The train of searchers was so long that the first
of them, the strong men, were already at the woods
west of Björne when the last stragglers, the
cripples and work-worn old men and the women
carrying their little ones, had hardly passed Bro church.
They all disappeared into the dark forest. The
morning sun lighted them in under the pines—the
low evening sun would meet them when they came
out again.
It is the third day of the search, and they are
already accustomed to the work. They seek under the
projecting hillside, where an unwary footstep could
slip; under the fallen trees, where an arm or a leg
could so easily be broken; under the close branches
of the fir trees, which, sweeping down over the soft
moss, invite one to rest.
The bears’ and foxes’ holes, the badgers’ deep
burrow, the black remains of the charcoal stack, the
red cranberry bank, the fir tree with the white
berries, the hillside laid waste by forest fires a month
ago, the great boulder flung by the giant—they
find all these, but not the place under the hillside
where the dark thing lies. No one has been in there
to see if it is an ant-hill or a fallen tree—or a human
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