The Rider on the White Horse | Page 2

at the inland side of the dike.
Somewhat hesitating, I rode on behind. When I had reached that place,
hard by the "Koog," the land won from the sea by damming it in, I saw
water gleam from a great "Wehl," as they call the breaks made into the
land by the storm floods which remain as small but deep pools.
In spite of the protecting dike, the water was remarkably calm; hence
the rider could not have troubled it. Besides, I saw nothing more of him.
Something else I saw now, however, which I greeted with pleasure:
before me, from out of the "Koog," a multitude of little scattered lights
were glimmering up to me; they seemed to come from some of the
rambling Frisian houses that lay isolated on more or less high mounds.
But close in front of me, half way up the inland side of the dike lay a
great house of this kind. On the south side, to the right of the house
door, I saw all the windows illumined, and beyond, I perceived people
and imagined that I could hear them in spite of the storm. My horse had
of himself walked down to the road along the dike which led me up to
the door of the house. I could easily see that it was a tavern, for in front
of the windows I spied the so-called "ricks," beams resting on two posts
with great iron rings for hitching the cattle and horses that stopped
there.
I tied my horse to one of these and left him to the servant who met me
as I entered the hall.
"Is a meeting going on here?" I asked him, for now a noise of voices
and clicking glasses rose clearly from the room beyond the door.
"Aye, something of the sort," the servant replied in Plattdeutsch, and
later I learned that this dialect had been in full swing here, as well as
the Frisian, for over a hundred years; "the dikemaster and the overseers
and the other landholders! That's on account of the high water!"
When I entered, I saw about a dozen men sitting round a table that
extended beneath the windows; a punch bowl stood upon it; and a
particularly stately man seemed to dominate the party.

I bowed and asked if I might sit down with them, a favor which was
readily granted.
"You had better keep watch here!" I said, turning to this man; "the
weather outside is bad; there will be hard times for the dikes!"
"Surely," he replied, "but we here on the east side believe we are out of
danger. Only over there on the other side it isn't safe; the dikes there are
mostly made more after old patterns; our chief dike was made in the
last century. We got chilly outside a while ago; and you," he added,
"probably had the same experience. But we have to hold out a few
hours longer here; we have reliable people outside, who report to us."
And before I could give my order to the host, a steaming glass was
pushed in front of me.
I soon found out that my pleasant neighbour was the dikemaster; we
entered into conversation, and I began to tell him about my strange
encounter on the dike. He grew attentive, and I noticed suddenly that
all talk round about was silenced.
"The rider on the white horse," cried one of the company and a
movement of fright stirred the others.
The dikemaster had risen.
"You don't need to be afraid," he spoke across the table, "that isn't
meant for us only; in the year '17 it was meant for them too; may they
be ready for the worst!"
Now a horror came over me.
"Pardon me!" I said. "What about this rider on the white horse?"
Apart from the others, behind the stove, a small, haggard man in a little
worn black coat sat somewhat bent over; one of his shoulders seemed a
little deformed. He had not taken part with a single word in the
conversation of the others, but his eyes, fringed as they were with dark
lashes, although the scanty hair on his head was grey, showed clearly

that he was not sitting there to sleep.
Toward him the dikemaster pointed:
"Our schoolmaster," he said, raising his voice, "will be the one among
us who can tell you that best--to be sure, only in his way, and not quite
as accurately as my old house-keeper at home, Antje Vollmans, would
manage to tell it."
"You are joking, dikemaster!" the somewhat feeble voice of the
schoolmaster rose from behind the stove, "if you want to compare me
to your silly dragon!"
"Yes, that's all right, schoolmaster!" replied the other, "but stories of
that