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Some years ago, large ships were sent towards the north pole, to
explore the distant coasts, and to try how far men could penetrate
into those unknown regions. For more than a year one of these ships
had been pushing its way northward, amid snow and ice, and the
sailors had endured many hardships; till at length winter set in,
and the sun entirely disappeared; for many weeks there would be
constant night. All around, as far as the eye could reach, nothing
could be seen but fields of ice, in which the ship remained stuck
fast. The snow lay piled up in great heaps, and of these the sailors
made huts, in the form of bee-hives, some of them as large and
spacious as one of the "Huns' graves," and others only containing
room enough to hold three or four men. It was not quite dark; the
northern lights shot forth red and blue flames, like continuous
fireworks, and the snow glittered, and reflected back the light, so
that the night here was one long twilight. When the moon was
brightest, the natives came in crowds to see the sailors. They had a
very singular appearance in their rough, hairy dresses of fur, and
riding in sledges over the ice. They brought with them furs and
skins in great abundance, so that the snow-houses were soon provided
with warm carpets, and the furs also served for the sailors to wrap
themselves in, when they slept under the roofs of snow, while
outside it was freezing with a cold far more severe than in the
winter with us. In our country it was still autumn, though late in
the season; and they thought of that in their distant exile, and
often pictured to themselves the yellow leaves on the trees at home.
Their watches pointed to the hours of evening, and time to go to
sleep, although in these regions it was now always night.
In one of the huts, two of the men laid themselves down to rest. The
younger of these men had brought with him from home his best, his
dearest treasure—a Bible, which his grandmother had given him on his
departure. Every night the sacred volume rested under his head, and
he had known from his childhood what was written in it. Every day he
read in the book, and while stretched on his cold couch, the holy
words he had learnt would come into his mind: "If I take the wings
of the morning, and fly to the uttermost parts of the sea, even
there Thou art with me, and Thy right hand shall uphold me;" and
under the influence of that faith which these holy words inspired,
sleep came upon him, and dreams, which are the manifestations of God
to the spirit. The soul lives and acts, while the body is at rest.
He felt this life in him, and it was as if he heard the sound of
dear, well-known melodies, as if the breezes of summer floated
around him; and over his couch shone a ray of brightness, as if it
were shining through the covering of his snow-roof. He lifted his
head, and saw that the bright gleaming was not the reflection of the
glittering snow, but the dazzling brightness of the pinions of a
mighty angel, into whose beaming face he was gazing. As from the cup
of a lily, the angel rose from amidst the leaves of the Bible; and,
stretching out his arm, the walls of the hut sunk down, as though
they had been formed of a light, airy veil of mist, and the green
hills and meadows of home, with its ruddy woods, lay spread around
him in the quiet sunshine of a lovely autumn day. The nest of the
stork was empty, but ripe fruit still hung on the wild apple-tree,
although the leaves had fallen. The red hips gleamed on the hedges,
and the starling which hung in the green cage outside the window of
the peasant's hut, which was his home, whistled the tune which he
had taught him. His grandmother hung green birds'-food around the
cage, as he, her grandson, had been accustomed to do. The daughter
of the village blacksmith, who was young and fair, stood at the
well, drawing water. She nodded to the grandmother, and the old
woman nodded to her, and pointed to a letter which had come from a
long way off. That very morning the letter had arrived from the cold
regions of the north; there, where the absent one was sweetly
sleeping under the protecting hand of God. They laughed and wept
over the letter; and he, far away, amid ice and snow, under the
shadow of the angel's wings, wept and smiled with them in spirit;
for he saw and heard it all in his dream. From the letter they read
aloud the words of Holy Writ: "In the uttermost parts of the sea,
Thy right hand shall uphold me." And as the angel spread his wings
like a veil over the sleeper, there was the sound of beautiful music
and a hymn. Then the vision fled. It was dark again in the snow-hut:
but the Bible still rested beneath his head, and faith and hope
dwelt in his heart. God was with him, and he carried home in his
heart, even "in the uttermost parts of the sea."
In the Uttermost Parts of the Sea
A Classic Children's Short Story
by
Hans Christian Andersen |
