A HUNT ON THE DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS

 

KŪČIŲ DIENOS MEDŽIOKLĖ

“1847 metų įvykio Rudninkų miške atgarsiai placiai pasklido Eišiškių-Rudninkų rajone per apylinkės kaimus.............”

 

English translation by Gloria O’Brien

 

 

Talk about what happened in 1847 in the Rudninkų forest echoed far and wide around the Eišiškių-Rudninkų region and neighboring villages.  People discussed the story every chance they could, often with fanciful embellishments, and citing ever-increasing numbers of named witnesses as if adding weight to the tale.  If it had been any other time, the story might not have had so much notoriety, but it happened just on the day of Kūčios, Christmas Eve.

 

It began when Kajetonas Laukaitis, who owned a small farmstead in Karmaniškiai, agreed with Zigmas Jurgaitis, owner of a large farm in Čurancų and an experienced hunter, to spend the day of Kūčios, Christmas Eve, hunting in the woods.

 

“On the day of Kūčios, there’s no place for men in the house”, said Jurgaitis.  “That day, the women are as irritable as flies, everything is no good, the men are in their way, and if anything goes wrong with something they’re cooking, it’s our fault!  Better we should just go hunting, and let them have the house to themselves!”

 

So that’s what they did.  Early on Christmas Eve, even before dawn, Laukaitis put on his long hunting boots, checked his gun, and filled his game bag with cartridges, a length of rope, a bottle of brandy, a large piece of bread and a few juicy onions.  He was sorely tempted to take a piece of dried cheese, but he resisted, since the day of Kūčios was then observed in strict fast and abstinence.  He assured  himself, as he closed his bag, that it was better to keep the fast and eat humbly during the day, so that the evening Kūčios meal would be even more satisfying. 

 

As dawn rose, he heard the howls and barking of dogs from Čurancų village, telling him Jurgaitis was also ready and on his way.  Taking his gun and bag, he left the house quietly, careful not to disturb his sleeping wife.  As he stepped outside, he saw Jurgaitis was already waiting for him, with two leashed hounds prancing around his legs.

 

They decided to start their hunt along the edges of Rudninkų forest, entering from the smaller woods and shrubbery, one on either side.  As they entered the first stand of trees, the hounds, let off their leashes, ran excitedly back and forth  through shrubbery, apparently tracking a hare.  The hunters split up, one approaching from the fields, the other from the denser forest side.  But they found nothing in that area, and passed into another small woods, where the hounds quickly came upon a fresher track.  They started the chase, but it seems that this must have been an experienced, wily old hare.  After a half-hour or so, the dogs lost the track and returned to the hunters.  The hunt wasn’t going well.

 

The day was cold and cloudy.  An even layer of snow covered the ground, with drifts piled against fences and some larger bushes.  Occasionally a strong sudden wind would carry a drift of snow, like flour, from one place to another, quickly obliterating any tracks in an open field.  The hunters, already far from home, moved, imperceptibly, further into the Rudninkų forest.  About noon, the hounds suddenly flushed a hare and chased it toward Jurgaitis, who killed it with one shot.   Their mood changing for the better,  the hunters decided to have lunch and let the dogs rest..

 

They sat on a log near a tall fir tree and took their food from their bags.  First,   they gave each dog a big piece of bread,  then readied their own repast.  Laukaitis, surprised, saw that Jurgaitis had taken a large ring of sausage from his bag.  “How is this----“  he exclaimed, “do you mean to eat sausage on Kūčios?!”

 

“Well, why not?”, said Jurgaitis.  “During the hunt, sausage is just the best thing, even on Christmas Eve.  No one sees what we eat here.  Last week, as I was helping my wife put our foodstuffs in order,  she didn’t see me take this ring of sausage and put it in my pocket instead of on the shelf.  I thought it would be just the thing for today’s hunt, and she never even noticed that it was missing”, Jurgaitis chortled.

 

“But that is a sin!  The day of Kūčios is a time of strict fast and abstinence!”  cried Laukaitis.

 

“Oh, it’s not such a big sin”, answered Jurgaitis, while slicing the sausage.  “And with a little glass of whisky, it’s a snack without equal.  Here, try it!”

 

Laukaitis turned away, and without answering, sliced one of his onions, sprinkled a good measure of salt on it, and placing it on a slice of bread, began to eat, taking an occasional sip of brandy from his bottle.  He was irritated by Jurgaitis’s behavior, and it spoiled his mood.  He had been accustomed from childhood to strict and conscientious observance of the laws of fast and abstinence.  That had been the rule in their house, and not one of the family had ever dared to disobey. As his parents had done, naturally, so did Laukaitis.

 

Having eaten, the hunters decided where to continue their hunt, and releasing  the hounds, Jurgaitis followed them as they ran off to the left, while Laukaitis turned right.  His thoughts were troubled, and he couldn’t forget about Jurgaitis’s disregard for the fast.  In addition to seriously sinful personal behavior on Jurgaitis’ part, Laukaitis himself felt wounded for witnessing such a display of disrespect for the Church’s commandments. 

 

And even worse, the fellow had said that no one would see!  But does He not see, Whose birth is commemorated this night?  Laukaitis firmly believed that He sees all, and is sure to be angry with those who do not obey the religious laws.

 

From Jurgaitis’s direction, he heard the dogs baying and barking, then a shot.  It appeared that Jurgaitis had gotten another hare, as the dogs fell silent.  As Laukaitis stopped to listen, he saw a fox step stealthily out of a bush.  The fox, he assumed, had heard the hounds and was trying to get some further distance away from them.  Laukaitis aimed, and shot.  The fox leaped, turned and ran into the denser forest. 

 

Surprised, because he seldom missed a shot, Laukaitis hurried to the spot where the fox had been.  He saw that he hadn’t missed, as the snow was marked by a large puddle of blood.  The fox was gravely wounded  and could not have gone much further.  He decided to follow its trail, certain to find it quickly.

 

It had begun to snow.  Afraid that the blowing wind would cover the fox’s tracks with new snow, he walked more quickly, carefully looking at the undergrowth on each side.  The snow was falling quite heavily, by the time Laukaitis found the fox, already dead, lying under a bush.  Brushing the snow from it, he tied its legs together, slung it over his shoulder, and began to walk back.  Darkness was falling and the wind strengthened, raising a true blizzard.  Visibility was very poor, and it was much harder to slog through the deepening snow.  Laukaitis had already been wading through the woods for at least an hour, and still there was no sign of an end to the forest.  He stopped to have a good look around, and realized he was in a completely unfamiliar place.  He had no idea where to go, or in which direction he might find home.  It was clear that he was lost.

 

The forest murmured as the wind whistled, carrying the fine snow, covering trees and bushes with a thick white blanket.  Snow in several layers covered the ground, and plodding through it was very difficult.  Laukaitis grew tired and wanted to sit down and rest, but knew that to do so in such conditions was dangerous.  One could freeze to death without knowing.  He kept going in that direction, where, he hoped, was home.  His tiredness increased with every step, getting harder and harder to drag his feet up out of the snow, and the snowflakes fell into his eyes, sticking to his lashes.  He realized that he could go no further, and was apt to drop somewhere near a bush, unable to rise again. 

 

He found a tall fir tree with thick branches that drooped to the ground, making a sort of shelter, and crawled underneath, leaning against the tree’s wide trunk.  Here, it was much better, as the branches offered refuge from the frigid wind. 

 

His chilled muscles relaxed, and a welcome warmth flooded his being.

 

“I must not fall asleep”, he told himself, “because that would be the end.  I wouldn’t be able to rise, and would freeze.”

 

All sorts of thoughts passed through his mind.  He remembered that it was Christmas Eve, but he would not partake of the Kūčios meal, he wouldn’t get home in time.  Maybe he wouldn’t even be able to get to church tomorrow.

 

“What a thing to happen  --  to get lost in the woods  --  and now I  can’t do anything but wait for the light of dawn.”

 

He remembered that his father had taken him to Vilnius just before Christmas, when he was about twelve years old.  That was a joyful time!  On Christmas Eve, they had gone to Sts. John Church, where so many candles were burning that it looked brighter than day.  The church was full of people, but they found room on a bench near the creche, and took their seats.  The church was beautiful and warm, and the people’s murmured prayers sounded like the buzzing of bees.  The creche was covered by a red curtain, and the light of candle flames inside penetrated the curtain and threw dancing rays of red light on the faces of those standing nearby. 

 

At twelve o’clock, the organ sighed its first big breath, the great choir began singing the Christmas hymns, and the curtain on the creche was drawn aside.  He saw the Child lying in the manger, with the Blessed Mother and St. Joseph standing alongside.  The entire congregation fell to their knees.  He also wanted to kneel, but he couldn’t move his legs.  While the choir sang, the people filed past the creche, bowing and genuflecting to honor the Child.  He wanted to do the same, and tried with all his might to stand, but wasn’t able.  It seemed that something held him back, preventing him from standing and taking those few steps.  It was so good to just sit there, comfortable, peaceful and warm.

 

“Stand up!  - and go, Kajetonai!   Soon the curtain will be closed and you will not see the Christ Child.”   His father sternly admonished him.

 

He strained with all his might, and leaning heavily on both hands, he stood.  The people were gone; there was no father, nor church, nor creche, nor candles.  He stood under the fir tree, and through its branches he could see a dark blue sky with myriad stars.  The blizzard had stopped.  Snow no longer fell, but it was much colder.  Laukaitis understood that he had fallen asleep, and only his childhood memories and the sound of his father’s voice had woken him, saving him from a certain frozen death.  He remembered that he still had some brandy.

 

With stiff hands he took the little bottle from his bag, drew the cork, and swallowed two mouthfuls.  Warmth spread throughout his body.  He stamped his feet and clapped his hands, slapped his sides, and soon felt that the stiffness was passing and his muscles were relaxing.  Taking his gun, his bag, and the fox, he crawled out from under the tree, and studying the stars, set off in what he thought was the direction of home.  Walking was even harder than before, because of the new-fallen snow, but he kept on going without stopping. After a short while, he  heard a sound coming from the west – a bell, such as those farmers tied onto their horses during wintertime.  That meant someone was riding, and in that direction should be a road.  Laukaitis quickened his steps, and soon, he saw a farmer with his wagon.  He realized he had come out on the Rudninkų-Pulstokių road.  The farmer stopped, immediately wrapped Laukaitis in a blanket, and drove him to the nearby Podborių village, which was just five kilometers from Laukaitis’s homestead.  The farmers there knew him, and helped to revive him and fed him, then harnessing their horses, drove him to Karmaniškius, and  home.

 

The people of Čurancų village had been searching for the lost hunters for more than five hours.  When the blizzard had begun, Jurgaitis’s hounds had returned  home alone, and the household knew the hunters could easily be lost in such weather.  There was nothing anyone could do while the storm was raging, but when it calmed a bit, about twenty people gathered, and with torches and the hounds, went out to search the forest.  Four hours later the hounds found Jurgaitis under a mound of snow, stiff and cold, but alive.  But there was no sign of Laukaitis.  Some people carried Jurgaitis home to be revived, but the rest remained, to continue the search for the second hunter, though hope was dwindling.  After another hour, they decided to stop and go home, as they were all exhausted, and the dogs had lost all interest in tracking and were reluctantly just loping through the snow.  As they returned home, the farmer with Laukaitis immediately followed. 

 

Laukaitis remained healthy, and was able to go to church the next day, but Jurgaitis had been badly frozen and was taken to the hospital in Vilnius, where his left leg, up to the knee, was amputated, as well as the big toe on his right foot.

 

Rumor spread throughout the neighboring villages, that Laukaitis was saved by the Christ Child, Who instructed one star to show him the way home.  According to the story, the star, dancing along the treetops, led him out of the forest and by some unexplained coincidence the farmer with his wagon had appeared on the right road at the right time, and driven him home.

 

 

 

Source:

“Vilniaus Krašto Legendos” by

Genrikas Songinas, printed in Chicago,

1988, Draugo Spaustuve

Publisher Linas Raslavičius

 

© English translation - Gloria O’Brien 2005

This article was printed in Bridges, Dec 2005

 

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