Margit Sandemo - The Ice People 13 - The Devil´s Footprint

Limpy stared. His eyes were almost popping out of their sockets and strange grunting sounds came from his throat. His body began to jerk, which it always did when he was nervous, and his arms and legs shook uncontrollably.

He flung himself to the ground in a heap.

The terrifying thing that now appeared stopped by his head. Limpy saw two feet quite close ... so different from each other that you wouldn’t believe they could belong to the same person.

He tried to lift his head but it was shaking so much that everything was in a haze. Higher and higher he lifted his gaze.

And then, suddenly, he saw a face more terrifying than anything he had dreamt of in his worst nightmares. He saw the thing draw back its upper lip just like an angry dog, and its white, sharp teeth glistened. They were a remarkable colour, those eyes that looked down on the miserable human wreck. A horrible hissing sound came from its throat.

Limpy knew that his last hour had come. But he had nobody to send up his prayers to, because he had never been taught about Jesus or God and the vicar had said that he was not to besmirch the house of the Lord, so there was nobody, absolutely nobody, he could turn to. He whimpered heavily, pleadingly, but the creature standing over him would show no mercy, Limpy knew that.

This unfathomable animal, or whatever it was, suddenly bent towards him. Limpy crouched, trying to protect his head. He felt a strong tug – and then he heard the dragging steps move quickly and silently away.

He could hardly believe that he was still alive. Once more he stretched out his body slowly. He looked about. No one was nearby. He sat up with difficulty.

The chain no longer felt tight. He stared at it in surprise. It had been torn loose from the pole and was now dangling around his leg.

It was a little while before he understood what had happened. But when it had sunk in, he began to crawl away on all fours, faster than he had ever moved before.

He didn’t know where he was. When he entered streets with more lights he could see people with heavily laden carts, all hurrying in the same direction. There weren’t many, though – he counted three carts in a quarter of an hour.

Limpy couldn’t ask anyone for directions. He didn’t even know the name of his own street, and had he known nobody would have been able to understand what he was trying to say.

All he could do was follow the direction the carts had taken.

And this was how Limpy came to leave his home town of Christiania and travel through the countryside to a place he had never been to before. He would sometimes walk, sometimes crawl, while the chain jangled after him so that he could be heard from far off. The sound was almost like a plague bell, because Limpy was as unwelcome as a plague victim in other people’s eyes.

The exodus from Christiania didn’t last long, because people soon realized that the monster had left the city.

Now Colonel Plucky and his band of soldiers eyed a chance to kill him.

It seemed that the Beast had made a stupid mistake, probably because he didn’t know the countryside around Christiania. He had gone to Ladegaard Island, also known as Bygdø, apparently not realizing that it was not part of the mainland. It was only linked to the mainland by a stony road along a causeway. There were plans to fill in the stretch of water between the island and the mainland but so far nothing had been done about this. Ladegaard Island was still an island.

It was a mystery how the Beast had got the idea of going there. People believed that he must be looking for something in particular.

At any rate, they had him now, unless he could swim or sink into the earth. There were many who believed he was able to do the latter.

Colonel Plucky decided to station a platoon on permanent watch on the causeway. These men were armed with cannons and other firearms. The rest of the soldiers began to move onto the island. The colonel recruited reinforcements so that they could walk in a solid rank, and all were armed to the teeth.

The fact that he had lost three of his bravest men didn’t bother him. He had plenty of volunteers to choose from.

To be on the safe side they had also brought along three priests, but not the one who had shown most boldness in downtown Christiania. He had got closer to the Beast than anyone else, had been movingly brave, holding the Bible high so that its cross could be seen from afar. Reading prayers and invocations to exorcise demons, he had entered the courtyard they had seen the Beast disappear into. There were no windows facing this yard, so those who were hidden farther up the street only saw the priest bursting back out of the gate, tumbling over at a terrific rate – and here he lay in the street, dead, still loyally clutching his Bible.

Nobody doubted that the Beast endangered not just the whole city of Christiania but the entire nation as well.

The colonel had never gone back to the small square where he set his ambush. He had left it to others to take care of the dead soldiers. Limpy he couldn’t care less about. He was sure that the lad was dead and if he wasn’t then surely somebody would come and set him free. The colonel didn’t spare a thought for Limpy’s fate.

The men who were slowly crossing Ladegaard Island weren’t afraid of the Beast. They possessed a courage that was equal parts foolhardiness and stupidity, convinced of how splendid they were and that they could certainly tackle the deformed creature they called the Beast. The colonel had never before suffered a defeat, which was why they dubbed him Plucky. His motto was: a firm hand can win you anything.

They spent the whole day searching the island, finally driving the Beast on to a spit at its southern end.

It was a spit that was covered in impenetrable forest. Colonel Plucky felt sure that the hunt had its victim cornered. They had certainly cleared Ladegaard Island carefully in advance. All the civilians had left the island with admiring glances at the brave soldiers who were risking their lives for the sake of the country. His anger was mounting. They had seen the monster several times, and shot at it several times, but perhaps they had been too eager to pull their triggers. At any rate, they hadn’t shot it. He had lost eleven men. Some in close combat ... those idiots! What had they expected anyway? The rest ... well, it wasn’t pleasant to have to admit it, but they had simply died. Nobody was left to explain how this had happened.

Until now he hadn’t managed to see the Beast but he was absolutely sure that he would get hold of it. He knew exactly how. If only he got the chance!

Now there was a chance: the Beast had fallen into his trap. It was at the farthest point of the spit, somewhere in the dense brushwood. Facing it was a dense wall of well-trained soldiers.

He asked for volunteers to scout. Of course, he would have offered to do so himself but who was to lead the troops in the meantime, then? From all those who volunteered he chose two tough soldiers, each with a sure hand on the trigger.

They disappeared into the undergrowth. The others stood waiting, hoping that the Beast would be scared and try to escape. Then they would get hold of him, no doubt about that!

But nothing happened.

Then suddenly somebody yelled: “There! Look up there, just below the top of the cliff! There he is!”

Now they could all see him. The crouching creature was barely hidden in the grass and scrub. Like an evil spirit, he squatted, observing every single movement in the forest.

“For Gawd’s sake, shoot!” Colonel Plucky barked to the soldiers standing nearby.

“The distance is too great,” several of them replied.

The colonel wanted to order them to advance, but on the uneven terrain this would have caused big holes in the ranks, something they just had to avoid at all costs.