Read Ebook: Kotoisten rantojen ikuinen kohina by Kianto Ilmari

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Ebook has 375 lines and 21498 words, and 8 pages

THE FAREWELL.

It is the afternoon of a summer day, with but little breeze more than enough to gently sway the folds of a new and handsome National Flag, which is in full view of the multitude who encompass it. We have taken the reader, in thought, to the spacious and beautiful Common in Worcester, on the 15th of August, 1862.

A few words concerning this great gathering; the close attention of all being drawn to the speaker's stand in its centre. Citizens of all classes are here, gazing and listening, representing the population of the city and suburbs. Its inner circles are clothed in the uniform of their country's service, and stand in military order. To them, as a Regiment, through their commander, who is conspicuous on the stand by his uncovered head and noble bearing, the Flag is being presented: a touching farewell act of the ladies of Worcester.

It is delivered with fitting words, and now not only the soldier, but the orator speaks. Never, while memory lasts, will the picture be erased from the mind of one, at least; the central figure, the devoted Wells: so soon, comparatively, to be the lamented.

The throng breaks, and the Regiment gradually prepares to leave the city for fields of duty, not to shrink from fields of danger. Hark! as they slowly recede from sight, and the clangor of martial music is hushed, can you not almost distinguish, stealing through yonder casement where a lonely heart is thinking of the absent ones, the plaintive words:

"Thinking no less of them, But loving our country the more; We've sent them forth to fight for the flag, That our fathers before them bore.

Brave boys are they, Gone at their country's call; And yet, and yet, we cannot forget That many brave boys must fall."

FUN IN CAMP.

Weary and monotonous indeed, would be many of the days spent in camp by the soldier, did not something crop out of an amusing nature, either in the proper members of the camp or in some of its motley group of followers.

One such safety-valve was found in a stout, unctuous darkey, who seemed to be the "right hand man" of our regimental sutler. Worthy Oscar! I know not whether thou dost still walk on this earth of ours, or hast entered the spirit land which so many of thy brave fellow-Africans reached, who with a more warlike spirit than thine, died on fields of duty and glory. Peace to thee, in any event, for none more faithfully performed his duty.

On one occasion, however, the "even tenor of his way" was rudely broken in upon, to the great amusement of the large number who happened to be in view of that part of the camp at the time. It seems that a private soldier of mischievous propensities had been for some time teasing our colored friend by thrusting a burning twig from the camp fire into his face; yet during the ordeal he had kept his patience, and only tried to get rid of his tormentor by entreaties. Suddenly he turns upon him, forbearance having ceased to be a virtue in the case, and the two fall heavily to the ground; Oscar having decidedly the advantage of his enemy, which he as decidedly keeps. The roar of laughter which followed this unexpected discomfiture was probably more pleasant to the ears of Oscar than to those of his antagonist.

Another case in which our hero was concerned related to the legitimate business of the sutler's tent, and was told in Company E to the amusement of many, by poor Hunter, who afterwards while in the performance of duty at the Shenandoah, fell through an opening in the bridge in an unguarded moment and was drowned.

There is something which irresistably appeals, in many phases of the African character, to our American sense of humor. At the same time we discover running through it a vein of sentiment, which blending with the other, dignifies the effect.

"'Way down upon de Swanee Riber, Far, far away; Dere's where my heart am turning eber, Dere's where de old folks stay.

When I was in de fields a hoeing, Near set ob sun; So glad to hear de horn a blowing, Telling dat de work was done.

O, den de darkies frolic sweetly, Banjo in tune; Dinah and Phillis dressed so neatly, Dance by de big round moon."

HARPER'S FERRY.

For some weeks the Thirty-Fourth had remained in Washington, D. C., furnishing daily heavy details of neatly equipped men for guard duty; principally to be employed in guarding the Carroll and Old Capitol Prisons. During this time the general soldierly deportment of the rank and file, together with the fine appearance of the regiment on dress parade, attracted much attention and called forth many complimentary expressions from the residents of Washington.

But "marching orders" do not stop to take counsel of their subjects, and on a well-remembered evening in July, 1863, they turned our quiet barracks into a scene of bustle and confusion. A ride of a few hours over the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad brought us into the immediate vicinity of Harper's Ferry.

The activity which prevailed throughout our force on the morning of July 14th made it evident to all that a movement across the Potomac was intended. All needful preparations having been made, a lively cannonade was opened from the heights above, under cover of which our force embarked in pontoon boats that were near at hand, and crossing, passed through the deserted streets up to the higher ground beyond; dislodging a small body of the enemy which had been holding possession. As the afternoon advanced a considerable force of cavalry passed through the place, file following file in a seemingly endless succession, till the eye was wearied with attempting to take in the living current. Our occupation of Harper's Ferry, begun under these circumstances, was destined to continue for many months, with the exception of an occasional brief visit to Martinsburg towards the close of winter.

Our long stay in this town gave many opportunities for examining its objects of interest, including the Engine House, worthy of note as the fortress occupied by John Brown while he held possession, during the brief campaign destined to end so disastrously for those engaged in it. The ruins of Armory and other buildings made it very evident that an immense amount of property had been destroyed in the two years in which the spirit of war had held carnival there.

The climate, through the winter months we spent in this place, seemed to suggest some New England locality rather than a part of the "sunny South." Snow storms and bleak, cold winds, find as congenial a home around those rocky heights as Massachusetts could offer them; at least, such was the impression made upon the mind of the writer. The sublimity and grandeur of Nature's works here well repay any effort required to reach an eligible point of view; but it requires no effort to enable the mind nurtured "beneath New England's sky" to dwell again, in thought, among its native hills.

THE SKIRMISH.

The morning of Sunday, October 13, 1863, proved a disastrous one to the Ninth Maryland Regiment, who were only a few miles distant from our encampment at Harper's Ferry. As it proved, the enemy in considerable force, under Gen. Imboden, had made an early and vigorous attack on that Regiment at Charlestown, and captured them bodily, in number about three hundred. Every available man of the Thirty-Fourth was promptly called out, and preceded by a Battery which was stationed near by, we started in pursuit. Often had the wish been expressed that we might see some actual fighting, and at last the wish was to be gratified.

A running fight commenced soon after reaching Charlestown, the Battery which was still in advance, having engaged the enemy just beyond that place. We pushed on, passing at one time the dead body of a soldier, killed during the morning's engagement, and a few miles of rapid marching bring us into close proximity to the foe, as the shells falling within a short distance from our ranks fully prove. Each Company has been assigned the best position allowed by the character of the ground, which is somewhat uneven and obstructed by fences. A lively discharge of musketry is kept up from both sides for a time, but finally ceases. At about this period in the fight, a small body of mounted infantry from the enemy's force charge toward us till but a short space intervenes, and then wheeling easily, soon disappear in the distance. We afterwards learn that the Springfield muskets of one of our wing Companies told with effect on their ranks. The firing has now ceased, and we are ordered to cross the open ground which separates our position from that of the enemy. This is safely accomplished, and it is found that they have again retreated.

Our Commanding Officer now considers that the pursuit has been pushed far enough, and the order is given to return to Harper's Ferry. Marching and resting alternately, we reach our quarters at a late hour, feeling well satisfied with this first experience of actual fighting. Two of the Color Corporals, Clark of Co. K and Gage of Co. E, have laid down their lives; but they died gloriously, and what matters the form in which death comes, if it finds us in the path of duty.

Paljon kepe?mm?ksi ovat muuttuneet askeleeni sen j?lkeen kun r?mehongan juurelle nukuin, m?t?s m?rk? p??nalusenani. En ole en?? sadatellut suon soiluvaisuutta, en ole en?? tuntenut kalvavaa ik?v?? noita pehmoisia sammalpintoja silm?tess?ni. Melkeinp? nauttinut olen, kun pieksusaappaani on varttansa my?ten uponneet rahkasuon salaper?iseen silm?kkeeseen tai musta muta roiskahtanut vaatteilleni. T?m?h?n on juuri niinkuin olla pit??!

Min? n?et uskon siihen, mink? kultaisissa kangastuksissani n?hnyt olen: Tuhannen vuoden vieritty?! Tuhannen vuoden -- tai jo ennemminkin...

-- -- --

Mit? n?emmek??n! Katsokaa millaiset j?ttil?isviem?rit halkovat silm?n siint?m?tt?mi? syd?nmaita. Katsokaa, kuinka syv?t ne ovat nuo valtaojat, kuinka leve?t ne ovat ja kuinka ilakoivat lapset venheill?ns? hurjaa vauhtia soutelevat niit? pitkin alas j?rviin. Ellen erehdy, n?en kokonaiset kanavat Valkeasta merest? Pohjanlahteen! Mutta ennen kaikkea huomaan, kuinka musta muta pursuaa viem?rin ja sarkaojien liepeist?. Tuo v?kev?lle haiskahtava alkuvoimainen pohjamuta, joka luopi ihmeit?, heti kun ihminen siihen uskoo...

Katsokaa! J?ttil?isr?ykki?t rioja ovat kohonneet m?r?n maan pintaan, nuo mustat m?hk?leet ovat sit? maanalaista valtakuntaa, josta tulella ja tapparalla muodostetaan se maanp??llinen tuhatvuotinen valtakunta... Rytisiv?t tuonnoin rutimoraidat, jarruttivat julmat juurikkaat v??ntyess??n vesihiisien kynsist?, kahahtelivat kirkaster?iset turvekuokat ja helisiv?t lapiot. Nousivat ihmisten ilmoille uumenten pahat peikot ja surmansa saivat rotkojen pirut. Nauraen niit? ilkkuivat j?tk?t. Vuosisatoja n?in raatajat ovat r?hj?nneet Suomen suurilla sudensoilla, sukupolvi sukupolven j?lkeen jatkanut on esitaistelijain t?it?, ei kukaan en?? ole alistunut palvelemaan p?lkkypomoja, usko savottaan on haihtunut, maahenki her?nnyt, suosielu virpen? vironnut, mustan mudan mullistajaa on ruvettu pit?m??n -- ruhtinaan arvoisena...

Ajan silm?t ovat auvenneet suurina ja kirkkaina!

Ja niin tullut on se p?iv?, koittanut se elokuun poutainen aamuvarha, jolloin maan ministerit, lentovaunuillaan ilmassa liit?en, julistavat Euroopan kansoille: Per?pohjola el?? omistaan! Suomi ei Saksan suuruksia tarvitse. T?t? kansaa ei en?? koskaan korpihalla kaada, sill? korpihalla itse on kuoliniskunsa saanut. Katsokaa sit? viljan runsautta!

Tosiaankin lainehtii viljameri niin pitk?lle kuin silm?ss? siint??. T?yten??n heiluvat t?hk?p??t! Ja t?m? kaikki on mustan mudan ansiota...

Antakaa silm?inne hivell? noita suloisia niittysarkoja. Se on maan ruhtinatarten viheri?ist? samettia. Tuntekaa apilaan ja vihantarehun huumaava tuoksu! Se my?s on suon siunausta, vuosisatojen uskon hapuilun huippu.

Kukkasia? Ruusuja! Sinisi?, punaisia, kullanloistavia unikkoja n?en siell?, miss? ennen kasvoi raate ja korte tai viheli?inen vaivaiskoivu. Kuka hoitaa n?it? ihania yrttitarhoja? Kysyk?? Suur-Suomen neitsyeilt?, onko siit? jo montakin vuosisataa, kun he joukossa vaihtoivat Singerin ompelukoneen monipiikkiseen rautaharavaan ja k?yt?v?kihveliin tai ryhtyiv?t pit?m??n pukutanssejansa Pohjolan paratiisissa!

Siell? miss? muinoin koiranputki rehoitti, siell? nyt punoittaa er?maan Eedenin uusi omenapuu. Ja siell? miss? n?lk?maan "kuolemankoura" ennen kaamean varjonsa heitti kosteaan rotkoon, siell? nyt versoo villiviini tai kiipe?? juhlallinen, jumalainen humalak?ynn?s...

Ihailkaa rehevi? juurikasvitarhoja! Kysyk??, miss? ovat ne ammottavat kuopat ja j?ttil?iskellarit, joihin kaikki tuo hyvyys mahtuu! -- --.

Niinp? siis kaikki ??ri??n my?ten on valmista. Suur-Suomen korpisuo on saatettu ihmiskuntaa palvelemaan! Se el?tt?? sen kansan, joka muinoin n?l?ss? kituroi puukuningasten per?ss? juostessaan. Koko maailman se ilahduttaa. Itse Jumalan, joka antaa aurinkonsa paistaa hyville ja pahoille.

... Tuo musta, valtaojan ?yr?ist? tihkuva muta, tuo r?mekorven aavistuksellinen alkuvoima, tuo satoja vuosia salassa s?ilynyt, Suomen pet?j??sy?neen ristirahvaan aarnihauta-aarre.

Olen sen n?hnyt henkeni silmill? heilim?iv?n? vainiona, tuon tuhatvuotisen taistelun takaisen voittotantereen. Iloitsen jokaisesta viem?rist?, jonka nykyp?iv?n? todellisuudessa n?en soiluvissa soissamme pursuamassa...

Jokainen syv?llekaivettu suoviem?ri mielest?ni kuljettaa pois sit?kin ep?ilyksen mutavett?, jota viel? on Suomen kansan omassakin povessa yht? vahvasti kuin maan hallituksen valtimosuonissa!

Niityn raivaus.

Alotan t?m?n p?iv?kirjan v?h??k??n tiet?m?tt?, tuleeko se sis?lt?m??n mit??n, mik? huvittaisi muita ihmisi?. Mutta jos sen saisin itse?ni huvittamaan , niin enemp?? en tahtoisi. Asia on ainakin n?in alusta pelkk?? kuivaa proosaa. Kysymys n?et on siit? ett? olen p??tt?nyt kolmen vuoden uutisasutuksen j?lkeen t?ss? mets?saunassamme ryhty? vihdoinkin siihen, mist? heti alussa olisi pit?nyt alkaa, nimitt?in niittymaan raivuuttamiseen. Kokemus on osoittanut ett? taloutemme ei pysy pystyss? ilman lehmi? -- ja lehm?t, ne kantturat, eiv?t pysy pystyss? ilman kontua, ja kontua taas ei tule ilman niitty?, mutta kun niitty? ei ole, niin se tietysti t?ytyy tehd?. Tehd?kk? niitty? kysyy sivistynyt ihminen. Eik? siis Jumala kasvatakkaan hein??! Ehei hyv?t herrat ja hienot, hetaleiset naiset, Herra Jumala on ankara t??ll? pohjoisessa: kanervan ja j?k?l?n H?n kyll? antaa kasvaa ja hirmuisia hiidenhonkia huijottaa, mutta apilasmaat meill? ovat pilventakaisina ihanteina ja aniharvoin saavat lehm?mme haistaa edes puntarp??t?.

No niin, niitty siis t?ytyy tehd?, tekem?ll? tehd?, ihan pystyst? mets?st?, i?nikuisesta rotkokorvesta, johon ei ihmisen kirves eik? kuokka ennen liioin ole koskenut.

Huomaan taas poikenneeni tekstist?. Iivana Karhu, Arhipan poika, siis otti tuon urakan, mutta viem?riojasta, joka ampuu nelj?kymment? metri? yli palstan, sovittiin eritt?in ja taisinpa, koiravie, luvata kuninkaallisen palkan, 20 penni? metrilt?.

Niin -- minulta on j??nyt sanomatta ett? itse olen riehunut insin??rin? tuolla korpipalstalla, linjoittanut kuin paras mosatramppari, pylv?st?nyt ja paaluttanut, mutta senp? sanonkin, ett? se vinkkelin otto on hiivatin tarkkaa ty?t?, enk? v?it? etten senttimetrill? olisi erehtynyt. Suora kulma ryteikk?korvessa on paljon ihmeellisempi asia kuin liitutaulu matematiikan tunnilla klassillisessa valtion lyseossa. T?hd?tess?ni vinkkelipuulla pitkin korpea, en v?h??k??n muistanut "hypotenuusia" enk? "kateetteja", vai mit? ne nyt olivatkaan ennen. Kuinka ihmeen v?h?n "korkeampi matematiikka" siis onkaan tullut hy?dykseni t?ss? el?m?ss?, vaikka muistelen kandidaattitutkinnossa saaneeni arvosanan hyperbolain mittaustaidossa? Ja mit? merkitsev?t kuutiojuuret ja logaritmit Ropakaarteessa? Siell? oli vett? viljalti, kun mittasin -- ja k?ki kukkui kev?tmets?ss?, mutta min? syvennyin yh? mittaukseeni. . Ja nytp? Iivana Karhu tottelee minun mittauksiani -- ja on se sent??n jotakin ett? saapi aikamiehen kulkemaan juuri omia j?lki??n synk?ss? mets?ss? ja rapistelemaan pitkin ryteikk?puroa. T?ss? nyt olkoon alkupuhelma p?iv?kirjaani.

Heti p?iv?llisen j?lkeen k?velin taas sinne ty?maalle, kuten nyt sanotaan. H?mm?styin hyv?np?iv?isesti: viem?ri? oli jo kaivettu kymmenkunnan metri? ja musta muta hyllyi ja vesi virtasi. Iivana seisoi polviaan my?ten vastaansa ry?ppyv?ss? vedess? ja katkoi kirveell? maansis?isi? juuria. Ty? siis k?vi kuin k?vikin.

Nelj?kymment? metri? viem?riojaa jo kaivettu! Iivana Karhu on todella karhu korpea raivaamaan. N?kisittep? vaan, miten musta lieju kohoaa syvyydest? ja miten tuhannet puunjuuret katkeilevat Karhun "kynsien", kirveen, kuokan ja kangin alla! Se on varmasti voimakasta maata, ikivanhaa korpipuron pohjaa -- tuntuu, kuin moisessa mudassa voisi kasvaa taatelipalmu... Ja kuitenkaan se ei kasva. -- Pohjolan kes? on liian lyhyt, Pohjolan tuulet liian kylm?t ja aurinko kitsas: t?n? p?iv?n?kin on kylm?, ja auringonlaskun j?lkeen viilenee ilma nelj??n l?mp?asteeseen. Nelj? astetta Celsiusta -- se on muka kes??! Ei ui ahvenkaan silmukkaan, nelj?st? verkostani otin t?n??n pari kalaa. Kaksi kalaista ja viisi leip?? -- mit? ne ovatkaan meid?n v?elle, minulla on paraikaa kasakoita, j?tki? ja kaikenlaista ty?v?ke?. Em?nt? on helisem?ss?. Mutta se on p??asia ett? viem?rioja sellaisella vauhdilla uurtuu. Oh mik? j?ttil?iskoivujuurikas! Iivana jo illalla oli k?ydell? tuon suuren k?kkyr?puun kaatanut, mutta hirmuisempi leikki oli leikata juurikas poikki ja v??nt?? irti maasta. Autoin hiukan Iivanaa ja sinne viem?rin paltteelle tuo visakinttu kellahti. Sen juurilla prameili viel? j??tik?s, vahva routa, ja kokonaiset telit j??tynytt? mutaa lohkeilivat k?siin. Ihastuin j??muta-teleihin niin ett? kannoin moniaan kainalossani kotiini kukkamullaksi...

Kun tulin aamulla heid?n majalleen, paikkasi Risto pieksusaapastaan, mutta Iivana seisoi polviaan my?ten mutaojassa ja kiskoi, kiskoi... Tietysti is?nt?n? pid?n heit? hyvin sik?li kuin kykenen, tuon sikarit, tuumittelen... T?n? iltana l?ksin sarkapalttoita viem??n, etteiv?t ainakaan paleltuisi. Y? uhkasi tulla yh? kylmempi. He pitiv?tkin varovaisimpana siksi y?ksi marssia taloni navetan ylisille nukkumaan -- turvepehkussa.

Viem?ri kaivettu puhki palstan, se ampuu nyt 60 metri? hiekkarantaan muodostaen kuin mik? pikku Niili "deltan" j?rveen tullessaan. Mutta pohjassa piilee viel? sulamaton routa...

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