by Ivo Andrić
flow for this, but luckily a report of this reached Stambul and he was recalled
from Bosnia. May all trace of him be abolished! Now this is something of the
samesort.TheSchwabeswanttohaveregistersofeverything,evenourheads.'
They all stared straight in front of them and listened to the schoolmaster who
was well known to prefer recounting long and detailed stories of the past to
giving his own opinion shortly and clearly on what was taking place in the
present.
Asalways,Alihodjawasthefirsttolosepatience.
'This does not concern the Schwabes' faith, Muderis Effendi; it concerns their
interests.Theyarenotplayinganddonotwastetheirtimeevenwhentheyare
sleeping but look well to their own affairs. We cannot see today what all this
means,butweshallseeitinamonthortwo,orperhapsayear.For,asthelate
lamented Shemsibeg Branković used to say: "The Schwabes' mines have long
fuses!"Thisnumberingofhousesandmen,orsoIseeit,isnecessaryforthem
because of some new tax, or else they are thinking of getting men for forced
labourorfortheirarmy,orperhapsboth.Ifyouaskmewhatweshoulddo,this
ismyopinion.Wehavenotgotthearmytoriseatonceinrevolt.ThatGodsees
andallmenknow.Butwedonothavetoobeyallthatwearecommanded.No
oneneedrememberhisnumbernortellhisage.Letthemguesswheneachone
ofuswasborn.Iftheygotoofarandinterferewithourchildrenandourhonour,
thenweshallnotgivewaybutwilldefendourselves,andthenletitbeasGod
wills!'
They went on discussing the unpalatable measures of the authorities for a long
time, but in the main they were in agreement with what Alihodja had
recommended: passive resistance. Men concealed their ages or gave false information, making the excuse that they were illiterate. And as for women no
oneevendaredtoaskaboutthem,forthatwouldhavebeenconsideredadeadly
insult. Despite all the instructions and threats of the authorities the tablets with the house numbers were nailed upside down or hidden away in places where
theywereinvisible.Orelsetheyimmediatelywhitewashedtheirhousesand,as
ifbychance,thehousenumberwaswhitewashedtoo.
Seeing that the resistance was deep-seated and sincere, though concealed, the
authoritiesturnedablindeye,avoidinganystrictapplicationofthelawswithall
theconsequencesanddisputeswhichwouldinevitablyhaveensued.
Two years passed. The agitation about the census had been forgotten when the
recruitmentofyoungmen,irrespectiveoffaithandclass,wasactuallyputinto
force.OpenrebellionbrokeoutinEasternHerzegovina,inwhichnotonlyTurks
but also Serbs took part. The leaders of the rebels tried to establish ties with
foreign countries, especially with Turkey, and claimed that the occupation
authoritieshadgonebeyondthepowersgrantedthemattheBerlinCongressand
that they had no right to recruit in the occupied districts which still remained
undernominalTurkishsuzerainty.InBosniatherewasnoorganizedresistance,
buttherevoltspreadbywayofFočaandGoraždatothebordersoftheVišegrad
district. Individual insurgents or the remnants of routed bands tried to seek
refugeintheSanjakorinSerbia,crossingthebridgeatVišegrad.Asalwaysin
suchcircumstances,inadditiontotherebellion,banditrybegantoflourish.
Sooncemore,aftersomanyyears,aguardwasmountedonthe kapia. Thoughit
was winter and heavy snow had fallen, two gendarmes kept watch on
the kapia day and night. They stopped all unknown or suspected persons
crossingthebridge,interrogatedthemandinspectedtheirbelongings.
A fortnight later a detachment of streifkorps appeared in the town and relieved the gendarmes on the kapia. The streifkorps had been organized when the rebellion in Herzegovina had begun to assume serious proportions. They were
mobile storm troops, picked men equipped for action in difficult terrain, and
madeupofwellpaidvolunteers.Amongstthemweremenwhohadrespondedto
the first call-up with the occupation troops and did not want to return to their
homes,butremainedtoserveinthe streiikorps. Othershadbeensecondedfrom
the gendarmerie to the new mobile units. Finally, there were also a certain
numberoflocalinhabitantswhoservedasinformersandguides.
Throughout that winter, which was neither short nor mild, a guard of
two streiikorps menkeptwatchonthebridge.Usuallytheguardconsistedofone strangerandonelocalman.Theydidnotbuildablockhouse,astheTurkshad
done during the Karageorge insurrection in Serbia. There was no killing or
cuttingoffofheads.Butnonethelessthistime,asalwayswhenthe kapia was
closed, there were unusual events which left their trace on the town. For hard
timescannotpasswithoutmisfortuneforsomeone.
Amongthe streiikorps menwhomountedguardonthe kapia wasayoungman,
Gregor Fedun, a Ruthenian from Eastern Galicia. This young man was then in
histwenty-thirdyear,ofgiganticstaturebutchildlikemind,strongasabearbut
modest as a girl. He had almost completed his military service when his
regimentwassenttoBosnia.HehadtakenpartinfightingatMaglajandonthe
Glasinac Mountains and had then spent eighteen months on garrison duty in
Eastern Bosnia. When his time was up, he had not wanted to go back to his
GaliciantownofKolomeaandtohisfather'shousewhichwasrichinchildren
butinlittleelse.HewasinPestwithhisgroupwhenthecallforvolunteersto
enrolinthe streiikorps wasmade.AsasoldierwhoknewBosniathroughseveral
months of fighting, Fedun was accepted at once. He was sincerely glad at the
thought that he was again to see the Bosnian townships and hamlets where he
hadspentbothhardandpleasantdays,ofwhichhismemoryrecalledthedaysof
hardship as more beautiful and lively even than the pleasant ones. He melted
with joy and was filled with pride, imagining the faces of his parents, brothers
andsisterswhentheyreceivedthefirstsilverflorinswhichhewouldsendthem
fromhisample streiikorps pay.Aboveallhehadthegoodfortunenottobesent
intoEasternHerzegovina wherethefighting withtheinsurgents wastiringand
oftenverydangerous,buttothetownontheDrinawherehisdutiesconsistedof
patrollingandguard-keeping.
There he spent the winter, stamping his feet and blowing on his fingers on
the kapia intheclearfrostynights,whenthestonescrackedinthefrostandthe
sky paled above the town so that the large autumn stars became tiny, wicked
little candles. There he awaited the spring and watched its first signs on
the kapia: that dull, heavy booming of the ice on the Drina which a man feels deepdowninhise
ntrails,andthatsullensoughingofsomenewwindwhichhas
howledallnightthroughthenakedforestsonthemountainsclosepressedabove
thebridge.
The young man mounted guard in his turn and felt how the spring, with all its
signsontheearthandonthewaters,wasslowlyenteringintohimalso,flooding
his whole being and troubling his senses and his thoughts. He kept watch and
hummed all the Ruthenian songs which were sung in his own country. As he sangitseemedtohim,moreandmoreeveryspringday,asifhewerewaitingfor
someoneonthatexposedandwindyspot.
At the beginning of March, headquarters sent an order to the detachment
guarding the bridge to double their precautions since, according to reliable
information,thenotoriousbrigandJakovČekrlijahadcrossedfromHerzegovina
into Bosnia and was now hiding somewhere near Višegrad whence, in all
likelihood, he would try to reach either the Serbian or the Turkish frontier.
The streifkorps menonguardweregivenapersonaldescriptionofhim,withthe
comment that the brigand, though physically small and insignificant, was very
strong, daring and exceptionally cunning, and had already several times
succeededinescapingandoutwittingthepatrolsthathadsurroundedhim.
Fedun had listened to this warning when making his report, and had taken it
seriously as he did all official communications. But he had considered it to be
unnecessarilyexaggerated,sincehecouldnotimaginehowanyonecouldcross
unperceivedthattenpaceswhichconstitutedthewidthofthebridge.Calmand
unworried he passed several hours, by day and by night, on the kapia. His
attention was indeed doubled, but it was not taken up with the appearance of
Jakov,ofwhomtherewasneithersightnorsound,butwiththosecountlesssigns
andportentsbywhichspringannounceditsarrivalonthe kapia.
It is not easy to concentrate all one's attention on a single object when one is twenty-threeyearsold,whenone'sbodyisquiveringwithstrengthandlifeand
when around one, on all sides, spring is burgeoning, shining and filling the air
withperfume.Thesnowwasmeltingintheravines,theriverranswiftandgrey
assmokedglass,thewindwhichblewfromthenorth-eastbroughtthebreathof
snow from the mountains and the first buds to the valleys. All this intoxicated
anddistractedFedunashepacedoutthespacefromoneterracetotheotheror,
whenonnightduty,leantagainsttheparapetandhummedhisRutheniansongs
to the accompaniment of the wind. By day or by night the feeling that he was
waiting for someone never left him, a feeling tormenting and yet sweet, and
which seemed to find confirmation in all that was taking place around him, in
thewaters,theearthandthesky.
One day about lunchtime a Turkish girl passed the guard. She was of the age
when Turkish girls, not yet veiled in the heavy feridjah, no longer go with uncovered faces but wrap themselves in a large thin shawl which conceals the
wholebody,thehairandthehands,chinandforehead,butstillleavesuncovered
a part of the face: eyes, nose, mouth and cheeks. She was in that short phase betweenchildhoodandwomanhoodwhentheMoslemgirlsshowinnocentlyand
gailytheirstillchildishandyetwomanlyfeatureswhich,perhapseventhenext
day,willbecoveredforeverbythe feridjah.
There was not a living soul on the kapia. Fedun's fellow guard was a certain StevanofPrača,oneofthepeasantsattachedtothe streifkorps. Hewasamanof
acertainage,bynomeansaversetoplumbrandy,whosatdrowsing,contraryto
regulations,onthestone sofa.
Fedun looked at the girl timidly and cautiously. Around her floated her gaily-
colouredshawl,wavingandshimmeringinthesunlightasifalive,movingwith
thegustsofwindandinrhythmwiththegirl'space.Hercalmlovelyfacewas
closely and tightly framed by the stretched weave of the shawl. Her eyes were
downcast but flickering. So she passed before him and disappeared across the
bridgeintothemarket.
Theyoungmanpacedmorebrisklyfromoneterracetotheotherandkeptaneye
fixedonthemarketplace.Nowitseemedtohimthathereallyhadsomeonefor
whomtowait.Afterhalfanhour—thenoondaylullwasstillunbrokenonthe
bridge—theTurkishgirlreturnedfromthemarketandagaincrossedbeforethe
troubled youth. This time he looked at her a little longer and more boldly, and
whatwasevenmorewonderfulshetoolookedathim,ashortbutcandidglance,
withasortofhalf-smile,almostcunninglybutwiththatinnocentcunningwith
which children get the better of one another at their games. Then she swayed
awayagain,movingSlowlybutnonethelessvanishingquicklyfromhissight,
with a thousand bends and movements of the wide shawl wrapped about her
young but sturdy figure. The oriental design and lively colours of that shawl
couldlongbeseenbetweenthehousesonthefartherbank.
Onlythendidtheyoungmanwakefromhisreverie.Hestoodinthesameplace
and in the same position as he had been at the moment when she had passed
before him. With a start he fingered his rifle and looked around him with the
sensationofamanwhohasletsliphisopportunity.Stevanwasstilldozinginthe
deceptiveMarchsun.Itseemedtotheyoungmanthatbothofthemhadinsome
way failed in their duty and that a whole army platoon could have passed by
them without him being able to say how many of them there were, or what
significancetheymighthavehadforhimselforforothers.Ashamedofhimself,
hewokeStevaninexaggeratedzealandtheybothremainedonguarduntiltheir
reliefarrived.
Allthatday,bothwhenhewasoffdutyandwhilehewasmountingguard,the
pictureoftheyoungTurkishgirlpassedlikeavisioncountlesstimesthroughhis
mind.Nextday,onceagainaboutnoonwhentherewereveryfewpeopleonthe
bridge, she again crossed. Fedun again saw that face framed in the brightly-
colouredshawl.Allwasasithadbeenthedaybefore.Onlytheirglanceswere
longer, livelier and bolder, almost as if they were playing a game together.
Stevanwasagaindrowsingonthestonebenchandlater,ashealwaysdid,swore
thathehadnotbeenasleepandthatevenwhenhewasathomeinbedhecould
notcloseaneye.Onthewaybackthegirlseemedalmostreadytostop,looked
the streifkorps boystraightintheeyeswhilehemutteredacoupleofvagueand
unimportantwords,feelingashedidsothathislegsfailedhimthroughemotion
andforgettingcompletelywherehewas.
Onlyindreamsdowedaresomuch.Whenthegirlwasoncemorelosttosight
onthefartherbanktheyoungmanshiveredwithfright.Itwasincrediblethata
young Turkish girl should think of looking at an Austrian soldier. Such an
un
heard-ofandunprecedentedthingcouldonlyhappenindreams,indreamsor
in spring on the kapia. He knew very well that nothing in this land or in his positionwasasscandalousandasdangerousastotouchaMoslemwoman.They
hadtoldhimthatwhenhehadbeeninthearmyandagaininthe streifkorps. The
punishmentforsuchdaringwasaheavyone.Therehadbeensomewhohadpaid
with their lives at the hands of the insulted and infuriated Turks. All that he
knew,andmostsincerelydesiredtokeeptheordersandregulations,butnonethe
lessheactedcontrarytothem.Themisfortuneofunluckymenliesinjustthis,
that those things which for them are impossible and forbidden become in a
momenteasyandattainable,oratleastappearso.Yetwhenoncesuchthingsare
firmlyfixedintheirdesirestheyseemonceagainastheywere,unattainableand
forbidden, with all the consequences that they have for those who, despite
everything,stillattemptthem.
On the third day too, about noon, the Turkish girl appeared. And as it is in
dreamsalltookplaceashewouldhavewished,likeauniquerealitytowhichall
else was subordinate. Stevan was again drowsing, convinced and always ready
to convince others that he had not closed an eye; there were no passers-by on
the kapia. The young man spoke again, muttering a few words, and the girl
slowedherpaceandreplied,equallytimidlyandvaguely.
The dangerous and incredible game went on. On the fourth day the girl in
passing, choosing a moment when there was no one on the kapia, asked in a whisperwhenhewouldnextbeonguard.Hetoldherthathewouldbeonduty
onthe kapia againatdusk.
'Iwillbringmyoldgrandmothertothemarketplace,wheresheistospendthe
night,andIwillreturnalone,'whisperedthegirlwithoutstoppingorturningher
head,butdartingaprovocativeandeloquentglanceathim.Andineachofthose
veryordinarywordswasthehiddenjoythatshewouldsoonseehimagain.
Six hours later Fedun was once more on the kapia with his sleepy comrade.
After the rain a chill twilight had fallen which seemed to him full of promise.