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  onthepiersbegantogetlostanddisappear,therevetmentstobreakdownandbe

  carriedawaybythewaters.

  Therumourthatthebridgewouldneverbefinishedspreadfarafield.BothTurks

  and Christians spread it and little by little it took form as a firm belief. The Christian rayah werejubilant,whisperingitstealthilyandsoundlesslybutfroma

  fullheart.ThelocalTurks,whohadearlierlookedontheVezir'sbuildingwork

  with pride, began to wink disdainfully and wave their hands. Many of the

  convertedTurkswho,inchangingfaith,hadnotfoundwhattheyhadhopedfor,

  but had continued to sit down to a meagre supper and go about with patched

  elbows,heardtherumourandrepeatedwithenjoymentthestoryofthegreatlack

  ofsuccessandfoundsomesortofproudsatisfactioninthethoughtthatnoteven

  Vezirs could carry out everything they had a mind to do. It was already being

  saidthattheforeign maestri werepreparingtoleaveandthattherewouldbeno

  bridge there where no bridge had ever been before and where it should never

  havebeenbegun.Allthesetalesblendedandspreadquickly.

  The common people easily make up fables and spread them quickly, wherein

  reality is strangely and inextricably mixed and interwoven with legend. The

  peasants who listened at night to the gusle player said that the vila who was destroying the bridge had told Abidaga that she would not cease her work of

  destructionuntiltwinchildren,StojaandOstojabyname,shouldbewalledinto

  thefoundations.Manysworethattheyhadseentheguardswhoweresearching

  forsuchapairofchildreninthevillages(theguardswereindeedgoingaround

  thevillagesbuttheywerenotlookingforchildrenbutlisteningforrumoursand

  interrogating the people in order to try and find out who were those unknown

  personswhoweredestroyingthebridge).

  A short time before, it had happened that in a village above Višegrad a poor

  stuttering half-witted girl, who was a servant, became pregnant, she herself

  wouldnotsay,orcouldnotsay,bywhom!.Itwasarareandalmostunheardof

  eventthatagirl,andsuchagirl,shouldconceiveandstillmoresothatthefather

  shouldremainunknown.Thestorywasnoisedfarabroad.Ingoodtimethegirl

  gavebirth,insomestableorother,totwins,bothstillborn.Thewomenfromthe

  village who helped her at the birth, which was exceptionally difficult, at once

  buriedthechildreninaplumorchard.Butonthethirddayafter,theunfortunate

  mother got up and began to look for her children everywhere in the village. In

  vain they explained to her that the children had been born dead and had been

  buried.Finally,inordertoberidofherincessantquestionings,theytoldher,or

  ratherexplainedtoherbygestures,thatherchildrenhadbeentakenawaytothe

  town, down there where the Turks were building the bridge. Weak and

  distraught,shewandereddownintothetownandbegantorangearoundtheferry

  andtheconstructionworks,lookingfearfullyintotheeyesofthementhereand

  askinginincomprehensiblestutteringsforherchildren.Themenlookedatherin

  amazementordroveherawaysothatsheshouldnothinderthemattheirwork.

  Seeingthattheydidnotunderstandwhatshewanted,sheunbuttonedhercoarse

  peasant shift and showed them her breasts, painful and swollen, on which the

  nipples had already begun to crack and showed all bloody from the milk that flowedfromthemirresistibly.Nooneknowhowtohelpherandexplaintoher

  thatherchildrenhadnotbeenwalledupinthebridge,fortoallkindwordsand

  assurances, curses and threats, she only stuttered miserably and with sharp

  distrustfulglancespeeredintoeverycorner.Finallytheygaveuppersecutingher

  and allowed her to wander about the construction work, avoiding her with a

  sorrowfulcompassion.Thecooksgavehersomeoftheworkers'porridgewhich

  had got burnt at the bottom of the cauldrons. They called her mad Ilinka and,

  afterthem,thewholetowndidso.EvenAbidagahimselfpassedbyherwithout

  cursingher,turninghisheadawaysuperstitiously,andorderedthatshebegiven

  alms. So she went on living there, a harmless idiot, by the construction works.

  And because of her the story remained that the Turks had walled her children

  intothebridge.Somebelieveditandothersnot,butnonethelessitwasrepeated

  allthemoreandnoisedafar.

  Meanwhile the damage went on, now less now more, and parallel with it the

  rumoursspreadevenmoreobstinatelythatthe vilas wouldnotpermitabridgeto

  bebuiltacrosstheDrina.

  Abidaga was furious. It enraged him that anyone could be found who dared to

  undertake anything against his work or his intentions despite his proverbial

  harshnesswhichhecultivatedasaspecialsubjectforpride.Alsoallthesepeople

  disgusted him, the Moslems as much as the Christians; slow and unskilled in

  their work, they were quick enough for raillery and lack of respect and knew

  onlytoowellhowtofindmockingandcorrosivewordsforeverythingtheydid

  notunderstandordidnotknowhowtodo.Hepostedguardsonbothbanksof

  the river. The damage to the earthworks then ceased, but damage to the

  constructionworkintheriveritselfcontinued.Onlyonmoonlitnightswasthere

  no damage. That confirmed Abidaga, who did not believe in the vila, in his belief that this particular vila was not invisible and did not descend from on high.Foralongtimehewouldnot,orcouldnot,believethosewhosaiditwas

  duetopeasantcunning,butnowhewasconvincedthatthatwasexactlywhatit

  was.Andthatexcitedhimtostillgreaterfury.Buthenonethelessknewthathe

  mustappearcalmandhidehisfuryifhewantedtosnarethesepestsandfinish

  once and for all with these tales about vilas and about stopping work on the bridge,whichmightbecomedangerous.Hesummonedthechiefoftheguards,a

  certain man from Plevlje, who had grown up in Stambul, a pale and unhealthy

  man.

  Thetwomenwereinstinctivelyhostiletooneanother,butatthesametimewere

  continually drawn together and came into conflict. Between them

  incomprehensible feelings of hatred, repulsion, fear and distrust were woven

  permanently.Abidaga,whowasmildandpleasanttowardsnoone,displayedan

  unconcealedrepulsiontowardsthispale-facedrenegade.Allthathedidorsaid

  droveAbidagaintoafrenzyandprovokedhimtocurseandhumiliatehim,but

  the more that the man from Plevlje abased himself and was obsequious, the

  greatergrewAbidaga'srepulsion.Fromthefirstdayoftheirmeetingtheleader

  of the guards was superstitiously and terribly afraid of Abidaga and this fear

  becameintimeanoppressivenightmarewhichneverlefthim.Ateverystepand

  movement, often in his dreams, he would think: what will Abidaga say about

  this?Invainhetriedto
pleasehimanddowhathewished.Everythingthatcame

  from him Abidaga accepted with disdain. And that incomprehensible hatred

  hamperedanddisconcertedthemanfromPlevljeandmadehimstillstifferand

  clumsier.Hebelievedthat,becauseofAbidaga,hewouldonedaylosenotonly

  his job and his position, but also his head. Therefore he lived in a state of

  permanentagitationandpassedfromdulldiscouragementtoafeverishandcruel

  zeal.Whennow,paleandstiff,hestoodbeforeAbidaga,thelatterspoketohim

  inavoicehoarsewithanger.

  'Listen, blockhead, you are clever with these sons of sows, you know their

  languageandalltheirmonkey-tricks.Yetforallthatyouareincapableoffinding

  outwhatscabitiswhohasdaredtospoiltheVezirawork.Thatisbecauseyou

  are a scab yourself, the same as they are, and the only worse scab is whoever

  made you leader and a chief and has found nobody to reward you as you

  deserve.SoIwilldoso,sincethereisnoother.KnowthatIwillputyouunder

  theearthsothatyouwillnotthrowasmuchshadowaseventhetiniestbladeof

  grass.Ifalldamagetotheworksdoesnotceasewithinthreedays,ifyoudonot

  catch whoever is doing this and do not put an end to all these silly stories

  about vilas andaboutstoppingthework,thenIwillputyoulivingonastakeon

  thehighestpartofthestaging,thatallmayseeyouandtakefrightandgetsome

  senseintotheirheads.Iswearthisbymylifeandmyfaith,whichIdonotswear

  by lightly. Today is Thursday. You have till Sunday. Now go to the devil who

  sentyoutome.Go!March!'

  Even without this oath the man from Plevlje would have believed Abidaga's

  threat,foreveninhisdreamsheusedtoshudderathiswordsandathisglance.

  Now he went out in one of his fits of panic-stricken terror and at once set

  desperately to work. He summoned his own men and, passing suddenly from

  dulltorportomadrage,hebegantocursethem.'Blindgood-for-nothings!'raged

  the man from Plevlje, as if he were already placed alive upon the stake and yellinginthefaceofeachoftheguards.'Isitthusthatyoukeepwatchandlook

  aftertheSultan'sinterests?Youarequickandlivelyenoughwhenyougotothe

  cookingpots,butwhenyouareondutyyourlegsareleadenandyourwitsare

  dull. My face burns because of you. But you will do no more slacking in my

  employ.Iwillmassacreallofyou;notasingleoneofyouwillkeephisheadon

  his shoulders if in two days this business does not end and if you do not seize andkillthesebastards.Youhavestilltwodaystolive.Iswearitbymyfaithand

  theKoran!'

  Hewentonshoutinginthiswayforalongtime.Then,notknowingwhatelseto

  saytothemorwithwhatmoretothreatenthem,hespatatthemonebyone.But

  whenhehadplayedhimselfoutandfreedhimselffromthepressureofhisfear

  (whichhadtakentheformofrage)hesettoworkatoncewithdesperateenergy.

  He spent the night cruising up and down the banks with his men. At one time

  duringthenightitseemedtothemthatsomethingwasknockingatthatpartof

  the staging which was farthest out in the river and they rushed thither. They

  heardaplankcrackandastonefallintotheriver,butwhentheygottothespot

  theyindeedfoundsomebrokenscaffoldingandapartofthemasonrytornaway

  but no trace of the miscreants. Faced with that ghostly emptiness the guards

  shivered from superstitious fright and from the darkness and moisture of the

  night. They called to one another, peered into the blackness, waved lighted

  torches, but all in vain. The damage had been done again, and they who had

  done it had not been caught and killed, as though in very truth they were

  invisible.

  ThenextnightthemanfromPlevljearrangedhisambushbetter.Hesentsomeof

  his men over to the farther bank also and when night fell he hid guards in the

  scaffolding right out to the end and he himself with two others sat in a boat

  whichhehaddrawnunnoticedinthedarknesstotheleftbank.Thenceinafew

  strokestheycouldbeatoneofthetwopiersonwhichconstructionhadbegun.In

  thiswayhecouldfallonthemiscreantsfromtwosides,sothattheycouldnot

  escapeunlesstheyhadwingsorcouldgounderwater.

  All that long cold night the man from Plevlje lay in the boat covered with

  sheepskins,tormentedbythedarkthoughtswhirlinginhishead;wouldAbidaga

  reallycarryouthisthreatandtakehislifewhich,undersuchachief,wasinany

  casenolifebutonlyterrorandtorment?Butalongthewholeoftheconstruction

  worksnotamurmurcouldbeheardexceptthemonotonouslappingandlisping

  of the unseen waters. Thus it dawned and the man from Plevlje felt in all his

  stiffenedbodythathislifewasdarkeningandshortening.

  On the next, the third and last night, there was the same vigil, the same

  arrangements,thesamefearfullistening.Midnightpassed.ThemanfromPlevlje

  wasseizedwithamortalapathy.Thenheheardaslightsplashandthen,louder,a

  blowontheoakbeamswhichwereplacedintheriverandonwhichthestaging

  rested. There was a sharp whistle. But the leader's boat had already moved.

  Standingupright,hepeeredintothedarkness,wavinghishandsandshoutingin

  ahoarsevoice:

  'Row,row....'

  The men, half awake, rowed vigorously, but a strong current caught the boat

  earlierthanitshouldhave.Insteadofreachingthestaging,theboatturneddown

  river.Theywereunabletomakewayagainstthecurrentanditwouldhaveswept

  themfarawayhadnotsomethingunexpectedlycheckedthem.

  There,rightinthemiddleofthemaincurrent,wheretherewereneitherbeams

  nor scaffolding, their boat struck something heavy and wooden which echoed

  dully.Onlythendidtheyrealizethatonthescaffoldingabovethemtheguards

  werestrugglingwithsomething.Theguards,localrenegades,wereallshouting

  at once; they fell over one another in the darkness in a medley of broken and

  incomprehensiblecries:

  'Holdthere,don'tletgo!'

  'Hey,fellows,here!'

  'It'sme!...'

  Betweentheshoutssomeheavyobjectorhumanbodycouldbeheardsplashing

  intothewater.

  The man from Plevlje was for some moments uncertain where he was or what

  washappening,butassoonashehadcometohissenseshebegantopullwithan

  ironhookattheendofalongpoleatthebeamsonwhichhisboathadstruckand

  succeededinpullingtheboatupstreamnearerandnearerthescaffolding.Soon

  hewasuptotheoakpilesand,takingheart,shoutedatthetopofhisvoice:

  'Lights!Lightatorchthere!Throwmearope!'

  Atfirstnooneanswered.Then,aftermuchshouting,inwhichnoonelistenedto

  or could understand anyone else, a weak torch glimmered uncertainly and

  fitfu
lly above. This first spark of light only confused the eyes even more and

  mingled in an uneasy whirl, men, things and their shadows with the red reflectionsonthewater.Butthenanothertorchflamedinanotherhand.Thelight

  steadiedandmenbegantopullthemselvestogetherandrecognizeoneanother.

  Sooneverythingbecameclearandexplicable.

  Between the boat of the man from Plevlje and the scaffolding lay a small raft

  made of only three planks; at the front was an oar, a real raftsman's oar, only

  shorterandweaker.Theraftwasmooredwithabarkcordtooneofthebeams

  underthescaffoldingandwasheldthusagainsttheswiftwaterswhichsplashed

  aboutitandtriedwithalltheirforcetopullitawaydownstream.Theguardson

  thestaginghelpedtheirleadertocrosstheraftandclimbuptothem.Allwere

  haggard and out of breath. On the planks a Christian peasant was lying. His

  breastwasheavingquicklyandviolentlyandhiseyes,startingoutofhishead,

  showedfear-strickenwhites.

  Theoldestofthefourguardsexplainedtotheirexcitedleaderthattheyhadbeen

  keeping watch at various points on the staging. When they heard the sound of

  oars in the darkness, they had thought it was their leader's boat, but they had

  been clever enough not to show themselves and to wait and see what would

  happen. Then they saw two peasants who approached the piers and with some

  difficulty moored their raft to one of them. They let them climb up and come

  amongthemandthentheyattackedthemwithaxes,overcamethemandbound

  them.One,whohadbeenstruckunconsciousbyablowfromanaxe,theyhad

  bound easily, but the other one, after pretending to be half-dead, had slipped

  from their grasp like a fish through the planks into the water. The frightened

  guardhaltedinhisstoryandthemanfromPlevljescreamed:

  'Who let him go? Tell me who let him go, or I shall chop you all into small

  pieces,allofyou.'

  Themenstoodsilentlyandblinkedattheredflickeringlightwhiletheirleader

  kept turning around as if searching the darkness, and shouting insults at them