13
The Promised Land
This most legendary and fearsome predator had ripped open the pig's
belly and had feasted on the organs inside. Sure enough, as they approached,
two or three ravens fluttered lazily upwards cawing in protest as
their pickings, which were already beginning to freeze, were
abruptly denied them temporarily. There was no sign of the wolf.
Jurgis raised himself slightly and took a sip of the infusion of Salix
bark from the wooden cup which stood on the floor beside the bed.
"Can you go and call Jonas and bring him to me?"
Veronika did as he had asked, and found their son, the mainstay on
the farm now, round at the back brushing down their old horse. He
left off from what he was doing and came to the house straight away
while his mother hauled her weary body down to the well to break the
ice on the surface of the water again, a job which had to be done over
and over, day by day throughout the winter.
Entering the one main room, Jonas went over to the corner near the
oven where his father's bed was situated and pulled up a stool.
"How are you feeling Tėtis?" he asked.
"Quite a bit better Sūnus" the elderly man lied.
"How's the horse"
"Old and tired!" replied his son, "He's almost had it."
"Like me then," Jurgis muttered.
"Don't say that Tėvelis," he replied, addressing his father more affectionately.
"You'll be up and about in no time and back on the booze
again and back to your usual self, just like normal."
"Well! Maybe, God willing. - I've been thinking,"
"What about?"
"About things that happened a long time ago during the war of
1812 when Mama and I had been married for a while but before you
were born. Some things happened which taught me a lot about life
and people"
"Go on Tėtis," his son entreated, intrigued.
Jurgis then started to tell him about the day the pig was taken by