The Bridge on the Drina - PDFDrive.com Page 20

  hadgrownupandbesidewhichhehadspenthislife,wasnowsuddenlybroken

  inthemiddle,rightthereatthe kapia; thatthiswhitepaperoftheproclamation

  hadcutitinhalflikeasilentexplosionandthattherewasnowagreatabyss;that individualpiersstillstoodtorightandtoleftofthisbreakbutthattherewasno

  wayacross,forthebridgenolongerlinkedthetwobanksandeverymanhadto

  remainonthatsidewherehehappenedtobeatthismoment.

  Alihodja walked slowly, immersed in these feverish visions. He seemed like a

  seriously wounded man and his eyes continually filled with tears. He walked

  hesitantly as if he were a beggar who, ill, was crossing the bridge for the first time and entering a strange unknown town. Voices aroused him. Beside him

  walked some soldiers. Amongst them he saw that fat, good-natured, mocking

  face of the man with a red cross on his arm who had taken out the nail. Still

  smiling, the soldier pointed to his bandage and asked him something in an

  incomprehensiblelanguage.The hodja thoughtthathewasofferingtohelphim

  andatoncestiffenedandsaidsullenly:

  'Icanmyself....Ineednoone'shelp.'

  Andwithalivelierandmoredeterminedstephemadehiswayhome.

  X

  TheformalandofficialentryoftheAustriantroopstookplacethefollowingday.

  Noonecouldremembersuchasilenceasthenfellonthetown.Theshopsdid

  notevenopen.Thedoorsandwindowsofthehousesremainedshutteredthough

  itwasawarmsunnydaytowardstheendofAugust.Thestreetswereempty,the

  courtyards and gardens as if dead. In the Turkish houses depression and

  confusionreigned,intheChristianhousescautionanddistrust.Buteverywhere

  andforeveryonetherewasfear.TheenteringAustriansfearedanambush.The

  TurksfearedtheAustrians.TheSerbsfearedbothAustriansandTurks.TheJews

  fearedeverythingandeveryonesince,especiallyintimesofwar,everyonewas

  stronger than they. The rumbling of the previous day's guns was in everyone's

  ears. But even if men were now only listening to their own fear, no one living

  that day would have dared to poke his nose out of doors. But man has other

  masters. The Austrian detachment which had entered the town the day before

  had routed out the police chief and gendarmes. The officer in command of the

  detachment had returned his sword to the police chief and ordered him to

  continuehisdutiesandmaintainorderinthetown.Hetoldhimthatatonehour

  before noon next day the commandant, a colonel, would arrive and that the

  leadingmenofthetown,thatwastosaytherepresentativesofthethreefaiths,

  weretobetheretomeethimwhenheenteredthetown.Greyandresigned,the

  policechiefatoncesummonedMulaIbrahim,Husseinagatheschoolmaster,Pop

  Nikola,andtherabbiDavidLeviandinformedthemthatas'recognizednotables'

  theymustawaittheAustriancommandantnextdayatnoononthe kapia, must

  welcomehiminthenameofthecitizensandaccompanyhimtothemarketplace.

  Long before the appointed time the four 'recognized notables' met on the

  deserted square and walked with slow steps to the kapia. Already the assistant chiefofpolice,SalkoHedo,withtheaidofagendarme,hadspreadoutalong

  Turkish carpet in bright colours to cover the steps and the middle of the stone

  seatonwhichtheAustriancommandantwastosit.Theystoodtheretogetherfor

  some time, solemn and silent, then seeing that there was no trace of the

  commandantalongthewhiteroadfromOkolište,theylookedatoneanotherand

  asifbycommonconsentsatdownontheuncoveredpartofthestonebench.Pop

  Nikoladrewoutahugeleathertobaccopouchandofferedittotheothers.

  So they sat on the kapia as they had once done when they were young and carefreeandliketherestoftheyoungpeoplewastedtheirtimethere.Onlynow

  theywerealladvancedinyears.PopNikolaandMulaIbrahimwereold,andthe schoolmaster and the rabbi in the prime of life. They were all in their best

  clothes,filledwithanxietybothforthemselvesandfortheirflocks.Theylooked

  atoneanothercloselyandlonginthefiercesummersun,andeachseemedtothe

  others grown old for his years and worn out. Each of them remembered the

  othersastheyhadbeeninyouthorchildhood,whentheyhadgrownuponthis

  bridge,eachinhisowngeneration,greenwoodofwhichnoonecouldtellwhat

  wouldbe.

  Theysmokedandtalkedofonethingwhileturninganotheroverintheirminds,

  glancingeverymomenttowardsOkolištewhencethecommandantuponwhom

  everything depended was to come and who could bring them, their people and

  thewholetown,eithergoodorevil,eitherpeaceorfreshdangers.

  PopNikolawasundoubtedlythemostcalmandcollectedofthefour,oratleast

  seemedso.Hehadpassedhisseventiethyearbutwasstillfreshandstrong.Son

  ofthecelebratedPopMihailowhomtheTurkshadbeheadedonthisveryspot,

  PopNikolahadpassedastormyyouth.HehadseveraltimesfledintoSerbiato

  takerefugetherefromthehatredandrevengeofcertainTurks.Hisindomitable

  natureandhisconducthadoftengivenoccasionbothforhatredandrevenge.But

  whenthetroublousyearshadpassed,PopMihailo'ssonhadsettleddowninhis

  old parish, married, and calmed down. Those times were long ago and now

  forgotten. ('My character has changed long ago and our Turks have become

  peaceable,' Pop Nikola would say in jest.) For fifty years now Pop Nikola had

  administered his widespread, scattered and difficult frontier parish calmly and

  wisely, without other major upheavals and misfortunes than those which life

  brings normally in its train, with the devotion of a slave and the dignity of a

  prince,alwaysjustandequitablewithTurks,peopleandleaders.

  Neitherbeforehimnorafterhiminanyclassofmenorinanyfaithwastherea

  man who enjoyed such general respect and such a reputation amongst all the

  townspeople without distinction of faith. sex or years, as this priest whom

  everyonecalled'grandad'.HerepresentedforthewholetowntheSerbianchurch

  andallthatthepeoplecalledorregardedasChristianity.Thepeoplelookedon

  himastheperfecttypeofpriestandleadersofarasthistownintheseconditions

  couldimagineone.

  Hewasamanofgreatstatureandexceptionalphysicalstrength,notoverliterate

  butofgreatheart,soundcommonsenseandasereneandopenspirit.Hissmile

  disarmed,calmedandencouraged.Itwastheindescribablesmileofamanwho

  livesatpeacewithhimselfandwitheverythingaroundhim;hisbiggreeneyes contractedintonarrowslitswhenceflashedgoldensparks.Andsoheremained

  inoldage.Inhislongovercoatoffox-fur,withhisgreatredbeardjustbeginning

  to turn grey with the years and which covered his whole chest, with his

  enormous hood beneath which his flowing hair Was plaited into a pigtail, h
e

  walkedthroughthemarketplaceasifhehadindeedbeenthepriestofthistown

  beside the bridge and all this mountainous district, not for fifty years only and

  not for his church only, but from time immemorial, from those times when the

  people were not divided into their present faiths and churches. From the shops

  onbothsidesofthemarketplacethemerchantsgreetedhim,whatevertheirfaith.

  Womenstoodtoonesideandwaitedwithbowedheadfor'grandad'topass.The

  children(eventheJewishones)leftofftheirplayandstoppedshoutingandthe

  oldestamongthem,solemnlyandtimidly,wouldcomeuptotheenormoushand

  of 'grandad' to feel it for a moment on their shaven heads and faces heated by

  play, and hear his merry and powerful voice fall upon them like a good and

  pleasantdew:

  'Godgrantyoulife!Godgrantyoulife,myson!'

  This token of respect towards 'grandad' had become a part of the ancient and

  universally recognized ceremonial in which generations of the townsfolk had

  grownup.

  ButeveninPopNikola'slifetherewasoneshadow.Hismarriagehadremained

  childless.Thatwas,withoutdoubt,aheavyblowbutnoonecouldrecallhaving

  heardabitterwordorseenaregretfulglanceeitherfromhimorfromhiswife.

  Intheirhousetheyalwaysmaintainedattheirownexpenseatleasttwochildren

  belongingtosomeoftheirrelativesinthevillages.Thesetheywouldlookafter

  untiltheymarried,andthenfindothers.

  Next to Pop Nikola sat Mula Ibrahim, a tall, thin, dried up man with a sparse

  beard and pendulant moustaches. He was not much younger than Pop Nikola,

  had a large family and a fine property left him by his father, but he was so

  slipshod,thinandtimid,thatheseemedwithhisclearbluechildlikeeyesmore

  like some hermit or some poor and pious pilgrim than the hodja of Višegrad, descendantofmany hodjas. MulaIbrahimhadoneaffliction:hestutteredinhis

  speech,longandpainfully('Amanmusthavenothingtodobeforehecantalk

  with Mula Ibrahim,' the townsmen used to say in jest). But Mula Ibrahim was

  known for far around for his goodness and generosity. Mildness and serenity

  breathedoutofhimandatthefirstmeetingmenforgothisoutwardappearance

  andhisstutter.Heattractedallwhowereoverburdenedbyillness,povertyorany othermisfortune.FromthemostdistantvillagesmencametoaskadviceofMula

  Ibrahim. Before his house there was always a crowd to see him, and men and

  women often stopped him in the street to seek his advice. He never refused

  anyoneandneverhandedoutexpensivecharmsoramuletsasother hodjas did.

  Hewouldsitdownatonceinthefirstpatchofshadeoronthefirststone,alittle

  totheside;themanwouldthentellallhistroublesinawhisper.MulaIbrahim

  wouldlistenattentivelyandsympathetically,thensayafewgoodwordstohim,

  alwaysfindingthebestpossiblesolutionforhistroubles,orwouldthrusthisthin

  handintothedeeppocketofhiscloak,takingcarenottobeoverseenbyanyone,

  and slip a few coins into his hand. Nothing was difficult or repugnant or

  impossible to him if it were a question of helping some Moslem. For that he

  could always find time and money. Nor did his stutter hinder him in this, for

  when whispering with his co-religionist in misfortune he forgot to stutter.

  Everyone went away from him if not completely consoled, then at least

  momentarilyrelieved,foritcouldbeseenthathefelttheirmisfortunesasifthey

  were his own. Continually surrounded with every sort of trouble and need and

  neverthinkingofhimself,henonetheless,orsoitseemed,passedhiswholelife

  healthy,happyandrich.

  The Višegrad schoolmaster, Hussein Effendi, was a smallish plump man, well

  dressed and well cared for. He had a short black beard carefully trimmed in a

  regularovalabouthispinkandwhitefacewithroundblackeyes.Hehadbeen

  well educated and knew a good deal, but pretended to know much more and

  deceived himself that he knew even more. He loved to talk and to have an

  audience.Hewasconvincedthathespokewellandthatledhimtospeakalot.

  Heexpressedhimselfcarefullyandaffectedlywithstudiedgestures,holdinghis

  armsupalittle,bothatthesameheight,withwhitesofthandswithpinkishnails,

  shadowedbyshortblackhairs.Whenspeakinghebehavedasifhewereinfront

  ofamirror.Hehadthelargestlibraryinthetown,aboundchestfullofbooks

  kept carefully locked, which had been bequeathed him by his teacher, the

  celebrated Arap-hodja, and which he not only conscientiously preserved from

  dustandmothbutevenonrareoccasionsread.Butthemereknowledgethathe

  had so great a number of such valuable books gave him repute amongst men

  whodidnotknowwhatabookwas,andraisedhisvalueinhisowneyes.Itwas

  knownthathewaswritingachronicleofthemostimportanteventsinthehistory

  of the town. Among the citizens this gave him the fame of a learned and

  exceptionalman,foritwasconsideredthatbythisheheldinsomewaythefate

  ofthetownandofeveryindividualinitinhishands.Inactualfactthatchronicle

  was neither extensive nor dangerous. In the last five or six years, since the schoolmasterhadfirstbegunthiswork,onlyfourpagesofasmallexercisebook

  hadbeenfilled.Forthegreaternumberofthetown'seventswerenotconsidered

  by the schoolmaster as of sufficient importance to warrant entry into his

  chronicleandforthatreasonitremainedasunfruitful,dryandemptyasaproud

  oldmaid.

  Thefourthofthe'notables'wasDavidLevi,theVišegradrabbi,grandsonofthat

  famous old rabbi Hadji Liacho who had left him as inheritance his name,

  positionandpropertybutnothingofhisspiritandhisserenity.

  He was pale and puny, with dark velvety eyes and melancholy expression. He

  wasinconceivablytimidandsilent.Hehadonlyrecentlybecomerabbiandhad

  marriednotlongbefore.Inordertoseembiggerandmoreimportantheworea

  wide rich suit of heavy cloth and his face was overgrown with beard and

  whiskers, but beneath all this one could discern a weak sickly body and the

  childish oval of his face peered out fearfully from the black sparse beard. He

  suffered terribly whenever he had to appear in public and take his part in

  discussionsanddecisions,alwaysfeelinghimselftobeweakandundeveloped.

  Nowallfourofthemsatinthesunandsweatedundertheirformalclothes,more

  movedandanxiousthantheywishedtoshow.

  'Let'slightanotherone.We'vetime,bythesoulofmygrandmother!He'snobird

  toflydowntothebridge,'saidPopNikola,likeamanwhohaslonglearnthow

  toconcealwithajesthisownandothers'thoughtsandfears.

  AlllookedattheOkolišteroadandthenwentonsmoking.

  The
conversation flowed slowly and carefully, forever coming back to the

  imminentwelcometothecommandant.AllwereagreedthatitwasPopNikola

  who should greet him and bid him welcome. With half-closed eyes and brows

  furrowedsothathiseyesbecamethosetwogolden-studdedslitsthatformedhis

  smile,PopNikolalookedatthethreeotherslong,silentlyandintently.

  The rabbi was quivering with fright. He had hardly strength to puff the smoke

  awayfromhimbutletitlingerinhismoustachesandbeard.Theschoolmaster

  was no less scared. All his eloquence and his dignity as a man of learning had

  vanished suddenly the day before. He was very far from realizing how

  disconsolate he looked and how greatly he was scared, for the high opinion

  which he had of himself did not allow him to believe anything of the sort. He

  tried to deliver one of his literary addresses with his studied gestures that

  explained everything, but his fine hands only fell into his lap and his words becamemixedup andhalting.Even hehimselfwondered wherehiscustomary

  dignity had vanished, and vainly tormented himself trying to recover it, as

  something to which he had long been accustomed and which now, when he

  neededitmost,hadsomehowdesertedhim.

  MulaIbrahimwassomewhatpalerthanusualbutotherwisecalmandcollected.

  HeandPopNikolalookedatoneanotherfromtimetotimeasiftheyunderstood

  oneanotherbytheireyesalone.Theyhadbeencloseacquaintancessinceyouth

  andgoodfriends,insofarasonecouldspeakoffriendshipbetweenaTurkanda

  Serbintimesastheythenwere.WhenPopNikolainhisyouthfulyearshadhad

  his 'troubles' with the Višegrad Turks and had had to fly for refuge, Mula

  Ibrahim, whose father had been very influential in the town, had been of some

  servicetohim.Later,whenmorepeacefultimeshadcomeandrelationsbetween

  the two faiths had become more bearable and the two of them were already

  grownmen,theyhadmadefriendsandcalledoneanother'neighbour'injest,for

  theirhouseswereatoppositeendsofthetown.Onoccasionsofdrought,flood,