Read The Vintage: A Romance of the Greek War of Independence Page 12


  CHAPTER III

  MITSOS HAS THE HYSTERICS

  For a space they went on in silence; it was as much as Yanni could doto grip his horse, for he still felt nauseous and giddy reelings in hishead, and Mitsos trotted behind, with an incessant stick for the mulesto make them keep up the pace. They were of the sedater sort, thathitherto had strolled through life, and they did not take kindly to ahigher rate of going. But at the end of some half an hour Yanni reinedin.

  "Let's go slow a bit," he said, "for we are out of the range of risks.We are in our own country again; no one saw us go to the mill except mycousin Christos, and they might pull his tongue out before he spoke.Besides, there is nothing to say. The mill blew up. The matter isfinished."

  Mitsos assented, and threw himself down on the ground panting andblown, for the pace had been stiff. However, a few minutes' rest and adrink from the wooden wine-flask set his blood to a slower time, and heopened his mouth, and, to Yanni's intense astonishment, began to swear.He was in a white-hot rage, and he cursed Krinos in the name of everysaint in heaven and every devil in hell, and labelled him with eachseveral vile and muddy epithet he knew, and of these the Greek tongueboasts an inimitable profusion.

  Yanni was still looking on in surprise when Mitsos' mood veered, andhe began to laugh, rocking himself to and fro.

  "Did you hear his head crack?" he jerked out. "It cracked like a greennut in September. No, it was more like a pomegranate under the heel.Is my head as messy inside as that, think you, Yanni? He thought hispowder would make him a rich man, and the powder has made chicken-foodof him. Oh, Yanni, what shall I do? I shall laugh till the JudgmentDay."

  Yanni's experience had not included an exhibition of hysterics, buthe judged that they were not healthy things, and must be stopped ifpossible.

  "Mitsos," he said, angrily, "don't make a fool of yourself. Stoplaughing at once. Stop laughing!" he shouted.

  Mitsos stared at him a moment like a chidden child; the fit endedas suddenly as it had begun, and he sat still a minute or two, idlyplucking the fragrant shoots of thyme, or tossing them in the air.

  "It has been a great day, Yanni," he said. "This sort of adventure islike wine to me. I think it must have made me drunk. And now I havecursed that devil I feel better. But I was so angry all the way herethat I thought I should have burst. I wonder what made me laugh justnow. Uncle Nicholas told me once that men sometimes went crazed thefirst time they killed any one. He told me that I should probably beblooded before I came home again. My eyes! it was so funny," and hebegan laughing again.

  "Oh, Mitsos, dear Mitsos, for God's sake don't laugh. It's horrible tohear you," said Yanni, with a sudden panic fear that Mitsos was indeedpossessed.

  Mitsos made a great effort and checked himself.

  "That's right," said Yanni, soothing him as he would soothe a child."Drink some more wine, and then stop quiet a while. Go to sleep if youlike."

  Mitsos drank some wine, shifted to an easier position, and puttinghis head on Yanni's knee, who was leaning against a tree-trunk justabove him, stretched out his great length, and in a couple of minuteswas fast asleep. Yanni was not very comfortable, but he sat as stillas a stone for fear of waking Mitsos. How odd it was, he thought tohimself, that this great cousin of his should have behaved so queerly.He had been so perfectly cool and collected while there was anythingto be done, but as soon as the need for doing anything was over he wasjust a baby. During his struggle with the Turk he remembered seeingMitsos' face as he threw Krinos, and that mask of fury seemed to bearno resemblance to the cheerful cousin; he was like a wild beast. Ifanything had been wanting to put the final touch on Yanni's convictionthat Mitsos was the king of men, it was that uprising of the wild beastwithin him.

  The sun had come out as they sat there and shone full onto Mitsos'face, and Yanni, as gently as a woman, pushed his cap over his eyesthat it should not waken him, and with infinite craft filled his pipeand managed to get a light from his flint and steel. He felt almostjealous of this girl whom Mitsos loved. It was not fit that he shouldgo a-mooning after womankind, who were--so Yanni thought--an altogetherinferior breed. It was Mitsos' business to fight, and do the work offifty men. How splendid he had been one night at Kalamata, when theysat in the cafe after supper! The keeper of the house had tried tomake Mitsos drunk, for the sport of seeing so long a pair of legs inmutiny, and had promised him that if he could drink two okes of winehe should not pay for them. This had suited Mitsos excellently, forhe was as thirsty as Sahara. He had drunk them in less than half anhour, and, to show that he was as sober as a woman, he had playeddraughts afterwards with one of the Greeks there, and beat him easilyin the first two games. Then his misguided little opponent had tried tocheat, and Mitsos rising up, a tower of wrath, had dealt the other soshrewd a blow over the head with the draught-board that he was fain toplay no more, for other reasons than that the draughts had rolled toall corners of the cafe. Several men looking at the game had seen himcheat, and applauded most cordially Mitsos' method of correction. Theythen asked him to drink more wine, but Mitsos thanked them and refused,saying he was thirsty no longer. However, they stopped on, smoking andtalking, as there was to be no journey the next day, and Mitsos hadsung the "Song of the Vine-diggers" as Yanni had never heard it sungbefore, for his heart and voice were in harmony. Decidedly there was noone in the world like him.

  The inimitable cousin stirred in his sleep, woke, and stretched himself.

  "Oh, little Yanni," he said, "what a brute I am! Have you been sittinghere all the time with my head on you? Why didn't you knock it off? Butthe sun is getting low, and we must be on the road. How's the head?"

  "Oh, it's all right," said Yanni; "a bruise like a walnut, but itdoesn't ache any more. You ride, Mitsos. I can walk perfectly."

  Mitsos wrinkled up his nose.

  "Indeed! Get on the horse."

  And he broke out again with:

  "Dig we deep around the vines."

  They struck straight down the hill, guessing that they had gonebeyond the village where they meant to sleep, threading their wayslowly through the aromatic-smelling pines, and going softly on thefallen needles. A gentle wind from the south whispered in the boughsoverhead, and Mitsos, purged by his sleep from the unwonted troubleof his nerves, whistled and sang as they went along. The sun was nearits setting when they got out of the wood, but they found their guesshad been correct, and soon struck the road leading into the villagefrom the north. This village, Kalovryssi, was a stronghold of theMavromichales, and Yanni knew that they would have a great welcome whenthey appeared. At the same time, there was a small depot of Turkishsoldiers there, and it had been worth while to take the precaution ofmaking a detour and entering from the north.

  This Turkish garrison of Kalovryssi had a strangely comfortless lifeof it, for the scornful clan, secure in their remote position, madeit quite clear that they were not to be interfered with in any way.If the government thought fit to keep soldiers there, well and good,they should be unmolested till the time came; but in the interval theywould be wise to keep exceedingly quiet, buy their provisions at doubleprice without a murmur, and if they ventured to meddle in any way withthe Mavromichales's womankind, why the Mavromichales would see to it.Otherwise they did not interfere with the soldiers, except perhaps onfesta days, when the clan got drunk in honor of the saint and demandeddiversion in the evening. Then it is true they called them by shockingnames, and warned them for their own sakes to keep within barracks,lest ignominious things should happen to them.

  The two boys entered the village unmolested and went to the cafe,where they were sure to find friends, and no sooner had they got therethan a great bearded man, as tall as Mitsos, came tumbling over chairsand tables and took Yanni off his horse as if he had been a child; forthis clan were warm-hearted, Irish-souled folk, and the two were keptlike kings that night.

  The great bearded man was Petrobey's brother, and to him Yanni knewthey might freely tell everything. Never in his life had that genialgiant be
en the prey of so many conflicting emotions. He positivelytrembled with suspense when Yanni described how he had gone into themill alone, and kept interrupting him to say "Go on, go on." He staredat Mitsos admiringly when he heard how that young man had won the fallwith Krinos, and gave a whistle of keen appreciation and cracked hisfingers when he learned that Krinos' skull had been crunched beneaththe stone. He wiped his forehead nervously when Yanni told him how hehad been thrown; he bit his lip when the Turk drew his pistol; andfinally, when Mitsos shot the soldier through the head, he sprang offhis chair, danced excitedly around the room, and embraced Mitsos withmuch fervor. He choked with laughter when he heard how they had decidedto blow the mill up, and said "Pouf!" with loud solemnity when he wastold that the explosion had taken place satisfactorily; finally, whenYanni came to Mitsos' hysterical fit in the wood his face clouded withanxiety, and he ran to the cupboard and fairly forced down his throatabout half a pint of raw spirits.

  "Well," he said, when the recital was over, "but this is a great dayfor the clan. And you, too, are of the clan," he said, turning toMitsos, "and by the God above who made the clan, and the devil belowwho made the Turk, the clan is proud of you. Ah, but there will bea score of them in presently, and if the dear little Turks happen tomeet any of them in the street as they go home again, I would notbe surprised if we find them hanging upsidedown by the heels in themorning. You will be near two metres high, Mitsos!"

  "KATSI AND A FINE SELECTION OF COUSINS ACCOMPANIED THETWO"]

  The clan, as Katsi Mavromichales had prophesied, soon learned thatthere was something going forward, and dropped into his house in groupsof three and four to learn what it was. The recital had to be gonethrough again to a most appreciative audience, for Katsi took on hisown broad shoulders the responsibility of making it public, and theonly thing that failed to make the harmony of the evening complete wasthat the little soldiers had all gone home before the clan came out.The latter contemptuously supposed the soldiers were tired, for werethey not little men? A few of the younger of the members had gone ina party to the barracks and tried to rouse the little men by throwingstones at the windows, but without result, and had subsequentlyquarrelled so violently at the cafe over the rival merits of the twocorollaries, "The little men sleep sound" and "The little men are verydeaf," that Katsi had to go out and knock their heads together, whichhe did with cheerful impartiality, the one against the other.

  Confirmatory news of the effects of the explosion came from Nymphianext morning, and fulfilled the most sanguine hopes. The mill, so saidthe Greek who brought word, was blown to atoms, and as for Krinos,he was as if he had never been. A broken skull had been found someyards off, but of the rest of him no adequate remains were extant. Itappeared also that there had been another man with him at the sametime, for over forty teeth had been found by the enterprising youth ofthe village, which was more than Krinos ever had.

  Katsi and a fine selection of cousins accompanied the two for a mile orso out of the village next morning to set them on their journey. Therewere no more messages to deliver, for they were now in the country ofthe clan, which was worked from Panitza by Petrobey, and Mitsos, asthe slayer of the Turk and the treacherous Krinos, enjoyed the sweetsacrifices of hero-worship offered by his cousins. Two of them inparticular, of about his own age, could only look at him in a state ofrapt adoration, and feebly express their feelings by quarrelling as towhich should lead his mule. Yanni, good lad, grudged Mitsos not oneword or look of this admiration which was so showered on him; it warmedhis heart to see that others like himself recognized the greatness oftheir splendid cousin.

  On the brow of the hill above the village Katsi and the elder menstopped and went back to their work, but the younger ones escorted themas far as their mid-day halt--lithe, black-eyed young Greeks, girtabout with the dogs of the clan, Morgos and Osman, Brahim and Maniati,Orloff and Machmoud, Psari and Drakon, Arapi, Cacarapi, Vlachos,Mavros, Tourkos and Tourkophagos, Maskaras and Ali, all great, statelydogs, shaggy-haired and eyed like wolves, and a contingent of smallerdogs of the most rascally kind, Pyr and Perdiki, Canella and Fundouki,who prosecuted an eternal feud with each other to keep themselvesfighting fit, and allowed no man to pass along the road until a passagehad been whipped through them by one or other of their masters. ToMitsos, who had lived so much alone, with only the companionship ofhis father, to be thrown suddenly among this crowd of boys of his ownage, who welcomed him as a cousin and hailed him as a hero, was anincomparable pleasure, and with Nauplia, and all that Nauplia held,getting nearer day by day, he was utterly content.

  All that afternoon they travelled quietly on, keeping close to thecoast, and about sunset saw Mavromati, where they were to sleep,perched high upon the hills below an eastern spur of Taygetus. The topsof the range were covered with snow, and the low sun for a few minutesturned the whole to one incredible rose. But below in the plain therewas already a hint of spring in the air; the worst of the winter waspassed, its armory of storms and squalls was spent, and the earth hadstirred and thrown forth the early crocuses. And something of springwas in the hearts and in the eyes of the boys as they wondered, notknowing that they wondered, what the year would bring. For another moreglorious spring was ready to burst forth, and that, which in Greecethrough a winter of bleak and storm-smitten centuries had lain batteredby the volleyings of oppressive clouds, and bitten and stung withfrost, had meanwhile so drunk life into all its fibres from that whichwould have done it to death, that already the green of its upspringingwas vivid on the mountain-side, and held promise of a perfect flower,tyranny being turned into the mother of freedom, and smiting intostrength.