The Year of the Hare - Arto Paasilinna [32]
If it’s difficult to teach an old dog to sit, as they say, then it’s even more difficult to teach an old Lapland roué to swim. Poor old Kurko did his best, but progress was slow. Evening after evening the routine went on. Vatanen was astounded at Kurko’s dead-set persistence.
Finally, a miracle occurred.
Kurko learned to dog-paddle. The water held him up! Roars of triumph echoed around the banks when he discovered his new prowess. He was so excited, he splashed around till late evening, sometimes swimming underwater for long spells, letting the current take him and then bobbing up, snorting, yards and yards downstream. His hardened old carcass withstood the cold water well, and joy in his newfound lifestyle beamed from his wrinkly face.
“It’s Sunday tomorrow; I’ll go diving for those false teeth,” he decided. He was so besotted with swimming, he didn’t even go for the Saturday-night sauna but went on fooling around in the river.
Kurko could stay underwater for minutes. It showed the next day, when he went diving to the bottom of the Ounasjoki for his false teeth. A crowd of villagers gathered to watch him from the bank; some had come to see the hare. In general, the two demolitionists were thought rather weird, and no doubt with reason: one of them went around with a tame hare, and the other spent the whole day floundering around in the chilly river. A tourist bus pulled up at the spot, and about forty Germans came to gape at the spectacle. Someone took out an amateur camera and filmed Kurko. The guide explained to his compatriots that this was training for the coming Lapland logging competitions.
In the evening, Kurko told Vatanen he hadn’t found his false teeth but had come up with something much more valuable.
“Somewhere near midstream, it’s over thirty feet deep. I found something down there—a hundred tons at least of war gear. Twenty-odd big guns, at least one tank, some large boxes, loads of stuff. That’s what all the diving was about.... Give us five hundred and I’ll sell that junk.”
A remarkable find, and a remarkable man, this Kurko. Vatanen slipped his clothes off, picked his way over the floating logs to the river, and dived down deep. The current was very strong, and it was difficult to get to the right spot.
Kurko had not been making it up. Vatanen banged his knee on a steel snag, examined the obstacle close up, and concluded that an artillery piece was indeed lying on its side on the riverbed. Amazing that it hadn’t been discovered earlier! But the top of the gun was covered with sunken, waterlogged lumber from decades of felling.
Vatanen gave Kurko his five hundred, and the old guy left at dawn for Rovaniemi. Vatanen stayed behind and proceeded to break up the last raft alone.
Again Kurko was delayed in town: two days this time. Back again, he was drunk but happy. There was still some of the cash left; and there was booze: many a bottle of high-class brandy. Tipsily Kurko bragged: “Take a look at King Dick. Tomorrow morning you’ll see things rolling.”
This said, he was out like a light, and Vatanen had no idea what Kurko had set in motion.
In the morning, three massive trucks marked HEAVY-DUTY HAULAGE rumbled into the camp. Kurko had evidently inaugurated a mega-operation.
Disregarding his hangover, Kurko set to work. He took charge, ordering Vatanen and the truck drivers to maneuver a large winch into position between two massive red pines on the shore. It was a heavy contraption with a hauling power of twenty tons. They anchored it to the massive pine trunks with thick cables. A smaller winch, set up on the opposite shore, pulled the big winch’s tow cable into the river.
Kurko took a dive, leading the heavy end of the tow cable down with him. He was out of sight for a long time. Then he emerged, snorting. He gave a shout: “Haul away!”
The tow cable tightened; the tops of the pines swayed, but the winch’s anchorage held. The riverbank