Grim: The Story of a Pike
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Grim - Jessie Muir
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Grim: The Story of a Pike, by Svend Fleuron
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Title: Grim: The Story of a Pike
Author: Svend Fleuron
Illustrator: Dorothy P. Lathrop
Translator: J. Muir
J. Alexander
Release Date: October 2, 2012 [EBook #40921]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRIM: THE STORY OF A PIKE ***
Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
A wild chase was going on in the depths, and where it passed the rushes bowed their sheaves.
GRIM: THE STORY OF A PIKE
Translated from the Danish of
Svend Fleuron
by J. Muir and J. Alexander
Illustrated by Dorothy P. Lathrop
New York MCMXXI
Alfred A. Knopf
COPYRIGHT, 1919
By SVEND FLEURON
COPYRIGHT, 1921
By ALFRED A. KNOPF, Inc.
Original Title: Grim
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
To devour others and to avoid being devoured oneself,
that is life’s end and aim.
CONTENTS
I: LIFE
II: IN THE SHELTER OF THE CREEK
III: GRIM GOES EXPLORING
IV: THE MARAUDERS
V: THE PEARLY FISH
VI: THE MAN-ROACH
VII: THE RASPER
VIII: THE ANGLER’S END
IX: THE WEDDING FESTIVAL
X: IN THE MARSH
XI: TERROR
XII: GRIM DEVELOPS
XIII: A FIGHT WITH AN OTTER
XIV: THE ANGLER FROM TOWN
XV: LUCK
ILLUSTRATIONS
A wild chase was going on in the depths, and where it passed the rushes bowed their sheaves.
With a hiss it curves its neck and turns the foil upwards, snapping and biting at its tormentors.
She snaps eagerly at the nearest worm,
but it escapes her by adroitly curling up.
The bird darts upon her from behind with outstretched claws, and drives them with full force into her back.
I: LIFE
Clear running water filled the ditch, but the bottom was dull black, powdery mud. It lay inches deep, layer upon layer of one tiny particle upon another, and so loose and light that a thick, opaque, smoke-like column ascended at the slightest touch.
A monster, with the throat and teeth of a crocodile, a flat, treacherous forehead, and large, dull, malicious eyes, was lying close to the bottom in the wide, sun-warmed cross-dyke that cut its way inland from the level depths of the great lake. The entire monster measured scarcely a finger’s length.
The upspringing water-plants veiled her body and drew waving shadows over her round, slender tail.
When the sun was shining she liked to stay here among the bottom vegetation and imitate a drifting piece of reed. Her reddish-brown colour with the tiger-like transverse stripes made an excellent disguise. She simply was a piece of reed. Even the sharp-eyed heron, which had dropped down unnoticed about a dozen yards off, and was now noiselessly, with slow, cautious steps, wading nearer and nearer, took her at the first glance for a stick.
All the ditch-water life of a summer day was pulsating around the young pike.
Water-spiders went up for air and came down with it between their hind legs, to moor their silvery diving-bells beneath the whorls of the water-moss. One boat-bug after another, with a shining air-bubble on its belly to act as a swimming-bag, and for oars a pair of long legs sticking far out at the sides, darted with great spurts through the water, or rose and sank with the speed of a balloon. The young pike peered upwards, and saw in the shelter of a tuft of rushes a collection of black, boat-shaped whirligigs, showing like dots against the shining surface. The little water-beetles lay and dozed; but all at once a sudden storm seemed to descend upon them and they scattered precipitately, whirling away in wider and wider circles, only to congregate again just as suddenly, like a flock of sheep.
The young pike disappeared from the heron’s view in a cloud of mud, and glided off to some distance, finally coming to anchor on a wide submerged plain in a broad creek, shadowed by a clump of luxuriant marsh marigolds, whose yellow flowers gleamed out from among the clusters of green, heart-shaped leaves.
There was never any peace around her. When one animal was on its way down, another would be on its way up. And the bed of ooze beneath her was in incessant motion. Sticks moved to right and left; hairy balls lay and rolled over one another; there was a twisting and turning of larvae in all directions. The active water-beetles were dredging incessantly, releasing leaves and stalks which slowly and weirdly rose to the surface. Air-bubbles, too, were set free, and ascended quickly with a rotary motion.
Here two large tiger-beetles were fighting with a poor water-bug. The flat-bodied insect stretched out its scorpion-like claws towards its enemies, but the tiger-beetles seized it one at each end, beat off its claws with their strong palpi, and tore its head from its body. It must have been almost a pleasure to find oneself so neatly despatched!
Everything tortured and killed down here, some, indeed, even devoured themselves. To lose arms and legs and flesh from their body was all in the order of the day; and anything resting for but a minute was taken for carrion.
The big horse-leech had wound its rhythmically serpentine way through the water. It was tired now, and had just stretched itself out for a moment’s rest, when the supposed pieces of stick upon which it lay seized it, and voracious heads with sharp jaws attacked its flesh. It was within an ace of being made captive for ever, but at last succeeded in making its escape and pushing off, with two of its tormentors after it.
The young pike watched attentively the flight of the black leech. She saw that to devour others and to avoid being devoured oneself was the end and aim of life.
For a long time she remained quite still, only an undulating movement of the dorsal fin and the malicious glitter of the eyes revealing her vitality. Slowly she opened and closed her small, wide mouth, and let the oxidizing water flow over her blood-red gills.
It was not long before she had forgotten her recent peril, and once more became filled with the cruel passion of the hunter.
From the shadow of the marsh marigolds she darted under the newly unfolded leaf of a water-lily. This was a very favourite lurking-place; she could lie there with her back right up against the under surface of the leaf, and her snout on the very border of its shadow, ready to strike. The silvery flash of small fish twinkled around her, and myriads of tiny shining crustaceans whisked about so close to her nose that at any moment she could have snapped them up by the score into her voracious mouth.
It was especially things that moved that had a magic attraction for Grim. From the time when, but twelve to fifteen days old, she had consumed the contents of her yolksac, and opened her large voracious mouth, everything that flickered, twisted and moved, all that sought to escape, aroused her irresistible desire.
In the innermost depths of her being there was an over-mastering need, expressing itself in an insatiableness, a conviction that she could never have enough, and a fear that others would clear the waters of all that was eatable. An insane greed animated her; and even when she had eaten so much that she could eat no more, she kept swimming about with spoil in her mouth.
On the other hand, anything at rest and quiet possessed little attraction for her; she felt no hunger at sight of it, and no desire to possess it: that she could take at any time.
——Meanwhile, the keen-eyed heron, wading up to its breast in the water, comes softly and silently trawling through the ditch.
Sedately it goes about its business, stalking along with slow, measured steps. Its big, seemingly heavy body sways upon its thin, greenish yellow legs, its short tail almost combing the surface of the water, while its long, round neck is in constant motion, directing the dagger-like beak like a foil into all kinds of attacking positions.
With a hiss it curves its neck and turns the foil upwards, snapping and biting at its tormentors.
Sea-crows and terns scream around it, and from time to time three or four of them unite in harrying their great rival. Just as the heron has brought its beak close to the surface of the water, ready to seize its prey, the gulls dash upon it from behind. With a hiss it curves its neck and turns the foil upwards, snapping and biting at its tormentors.
An irritating little flock of gulls may go on thus for a long time; and when at last, screaming and mocking, they take their departure, they have spoilt many a chance and wasted many precious minutes of the big, silent, patient fisher’s time.
The gulls once gone, the heron applies itself with redoubled zeal to its business. From various attacking positions its beak darts down into the water, but often without result, and it has to go farther afield; then at last it captures a little eel.
It is not easy, however, to swallow the wriggling captive. The eel twists, and refuses to be swallowed; so the bird has to reduce its liveliness by rolling up and down in its sharp-edged beak. Then it glides down.
This time, too, fortune is disposed to favour the young pike. The heron, coming up behind her, cautiously bends its neck over the drifting piece of reed. It sees there is something suspicious about it, but thinks it is mistaken, and is about to take another step forward. When only half-way, it pauses with its foot in the air;