Full resolution (TIFF) - On this page / på denna sida - In the Forest
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holds her spinning-wheel, which completes the
pyramid. The father drives the horse, the
mother carries the youngest child on her back,
sewed up in a skin, and the procession moves
on step by step. The cattle are driven by the
half-grown children: they have stuck a birch
branch between one of the cows’ horns, but she
does not appear to be proud of her finery, she
goes the same quiet pace as the others and
lashes the saucy flies with her tail. If the
night becomes cold on this solitary pasture,
there is fuel enough here – the tree falls of itself
from old age and lies and rots.
But take especial care of the fire – fear the
fire-spirit in the forest desert! He comes from
the unextinguishable pile – he comes from the
thunder-cloud, riding on the blue lightning’s
flame, which kindles the thick, dry moss of the
earth: trees and bushes are kindled, the flames
run from tree to tree – it is like a snow-storm
of fire! the flame leaps to the tops of the trees
– what a crackling and roaring, as if it were
the ocean in its course! The birds fly upward
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