Whistling and frolicking he walked along the dusty road.Nights he spent in the woods, beside lakes or meanders, but at sunrise he trampled out his fire, scattered the glowing embers around the place and carried on walking. He was not in a hurry and had no purpose, and he was a bit peculiar. Often stopping, he got lost in the variations of the landscape, imitating the chirping of the birds; he was jolly and cheerful. Occasionally, he came to a halt beside some lake and, lying in the grass, watched white clouds high up in the blueness for hours.He was tall and lean. His big eyes were full of joy, and he called himself Toomas Nipernaadi. When curious folk asked him something, he laughed with a wide mouth and told them that he was just wandering around looking for how the land really opened up. When he got tired he sat by the roadside, played the zither and sang, but his voice screeched and was ugly. Standing up, he looked long at the landscape ahead. Dust was rising from dried-out fields, on the distant horizon clouds of smoke were rising from a burning marsh. The blue woods loomed, smouldering with heat.It came about that at that moment death came to the Widow Liis, owner of Krootuse Farm, who had the surname Nõgikikas from her late husband. What happened was that the cowherd Janka, who was taking a nap on top of the range was woken by a strange gurgling, and raising his sleepy eyes he saw the mistress's death agonies. Terrified and shivering, he watched for a long time, but when all of a sudden the mistress's chest sank and her chin stayed hanging helplessly, Janka ran out as if carried by the wind.'The mistress has been taken away by the one from below!' he cried, full of an elated sense of joy and freedom. Three men, the sons of the deceased, who were lying idly on the lawn, mouths gaping towards the sun, sat up all at once and stared at one another in bafflement.'What did the laddie say?' the eldest son eventually asked.They had been waiting day upon day for their mother's death, never daring to go to her bedside. Again and again the cowherd was sent inside to see how the patient was and what she was doing. The cowherd looked, paid attention, and then announced gloomily and without hope that nothing good was to be expected - this customer is not ready to leave the world yet. Excerpted from Toomas Nipernaadi by August Gailit All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
