by Ivo Andrić
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