FOOTNOTES:[5]Fences, in America, are formed of poles of wood, split lengthwise, which ordinarily surround the fields in a zig-zag form, and are intended to preserve the grain from the cattle, which run about freely. In the West, where there is wood in abundance, this arrangement is universal; but in the East, and particularly in the vicinity of towns, they are beginning to raise quickset hedges, or at least to apply the wood in the most economical way, so as to make as little wood as possible surround a great space.—Note by the Author.Many old countrymen, upon their first arrival in America, are disgusted with the rail fences, and talk about the quickset hedges which they will have upon their land; but it all ends in talk. Wood is adopted for fences in America, as well because of its abundance as because the white and black thorns, used in quickset hedges in England, although they grow, yet do not generally thrive there; besides, the planting, filling up gaps, pruning, ditching, &c., requires much labour, and that is expensive there. Cattle, also, are so used to the bush, that they would make no difficulty of walking through a quickset hedge, unless it were many years old, and well made. Every man can swing the axe there, and most of their woods grow tall in the stem, without knots or branches, for fifty feet or so, and split readily, sometimes even without the wedge. They therefore cut trees, such as ash, oak, elm, birch, and (for the lower rails, to resist the effects of wet) cedar, into twelve or sixteen feet lengths, and then split them, either with the axe alone, or with the assistance of a mall and wedges, into rails of a convenient thickness. These are laid upon the surface of the ground in zig-zag, as mentioned by the author, each overlapping the other by six inches or so, and so on to the height of from six to twelve feet, and, in well-made fences, stakes are also driven firmly into the ground, near the places where the rails meet, one inside and one outside of the fence, at an inclination towards it, their points meeting and crossing each other at the junction of the top rails, and forming, by such crossing, a receptacle for a heavy rail or rider, as it is called, which tops it all, and serves to give the whole stability; thus all nails and iron-work, which are expensive, or wooden pegs, which would require labour, are dispensed with, and a fence is obtained, having nearly the strength of a brick wall, and capable of restraining cattle. Fences without stakes and riders are also used, especially for temporary purposes, supporting themselves by the zig-zag ground-plan and their own weight, but are liable to be invaded by a breachy ox, and are also more liable to be put out of their position. An ox is, in America, termed "breachy" when he has learned to lift the rails off with his horns, which he does by the ends one after another, like any Christian, until it is low enough for him to step over; but if properly staked and ridered he cannot do so. Such oxen are not very common, but never can be cured of the habit, and however well they may work in the yoke, have to be fattened and killed forthwith. When the two or three lower rails, and also the stakes, are of wood, capable of resisting the effect of damp, such as cedar, black ash, &c., a well-made fence will last for an indefinite number of years, but otherwise seven or eight years suffice to rot the lower rails, and to make constant patching necessary, which is almost as bad as making a new fence, for, to get at one of the lower rails, the fence has to be taken down for many lengths on each side, and never can be relaid so well. In the Canadas, and the Northwestern states of the Union, the ground, during winter, is covered with snow, for a distance of ten degrees and more south of corresponding latitudes in the Old World, and this is the season when the timber is easily got out of the bush, or of the swamps, into the clearings, either on low sleighs, or by being snagged—that is, dragged out by oxen and a logging chain.—Tr.[6]It is not customary for shoemakers in Germany to keep a large stock of shoes; those in the text, of course, were not all made by the seller, but probably in New England, where there are whole towns where nothing else is done. The wooden pegs would surprise an English shoemaker as much as they did the German.—Tr.[7]A brass bason is the German barber's sign—Tr.[8]Munich is celebrated throughout Germany for the goodness of its beer.—Tr.
[5]Fences, in America, are formed of poles of wood, split lengthwise, which ordinarily surround the fields in a zig-zag form, and are intended to preserve the grain from the cattle, which run about freely. In the West, where there is wood in abundance, this arrangement is universal; but in the East, and particularly in the vicinity of towns, they are beginning to raise quickset hedges, or at least to apply the wood in the most economical way, so as to make as little wood as possible surround a great space.—Note by the Author.Many old countrymen, upon their first arrival in America, are disgusted with the rail fences, and talk about the quickset hedges which they will have upon their land; but it all ends in talk. Wood is adopted for fences in America, as well because of its abundance as because the white and black thorns, used in quickset hedges in England, although they grow, yet do not generally thrive there; besides, the planting, filling up gaps, pruning, ditching, &c., requires much labour, and that is expensive there. Cattle, also, are so used to the bush, that they would make no difficulty of walking through a quickset hedge, unless it were many years old, and well made. Every man can swing the axe there, and most of their woods grow tall in the stem, without knots or branches, for fifty feet or so, and split readily, sometimes even without the wedge. They therefore cut trees, such as ash, oak, elm, birch, and (for the lower rails, to resist the effects of wet) cedar, into twelve or sixteen feet lengths, and then split them, either with the axe alone, or with the assistance of a mall and wedges, into rails of a convenient thickness. These are laid upon the surface of the ground in zig-zag, as mentioned by the author, each overlapping the other by six inches or so, and so on to the height of from six to twelve feet, and, in well-made fences, stakes are also driven firmly into the ground, near the places where the rails meet, one inside and one outside of the fence, at an inclination towards it, their points meeting and crossing each other at the junction of the top rails, and forming, by such crossing, a receptacle for a heavy rail or rider, as it is called, which tops it all, and serves to give the whole stability; thus all nails and iron-work, which are expensive, or wooden pegs, which would require labour, are dispensed with, and a fence is obtained, having nearly the strength of a brick wall, and capable of restraining cattle. Fences without stakes and riders are also used, especially for temporary purposes, supporting themselves by the zig-zag ground-plan and their own weight, but are liable to be invaded by a breachy ox, and are also more liable to be put out of their position. An ox is, in America, termed "breachy" when he has learned to lift the rails off with his horns, which he does by the ends one after another, like any Christian, until it is low enough for him to step over; but if properly staked and ridered he cannot do so. Such oxen are not very common, but never can be cured of the habit, and however well they may work in the yoke, have to be fattened and killed forthwith. When the two or three lower rails, and also the stakes, are of wood, capable of resisting the effect of damp, such as cedar, black ash, &c., a well-made fence will last for an indefinite number of years, but otherwise seven or eight years suffice to rot the lower rails, and to make constant patching necessary, which is almost as bad as making a new fence, for, to get at one of the lower rails, the fence has to be taken down for many lengths on each side, and never can be relaid so well. In the Canadas, and the Northwestern states of the Union, the ground, during winter, is covered with snow, for a distance of ten degrees and more south of corresponding latitudes in the Old World, and this is the season when the timber is easily got out of the bush, or of the swamps, into the clearings, either on low sleighs, or by being snagged—that is, dragged out by oxen and a logging chain.—Tr.
[5]Fences, in America, are formed of poles of wood, split lengthwise, which ordinarily surround the fields in a zig-zag form, and are intended to preserve the grain from the cattle, which run about freely. In the West, where there is wood in abundance, this arrangement is universal; but in the East, and particularly in the vicinity of towns, they are beginning to raise quickset hedges, or at least to apply the wood in the most economical way, so as to make as little wood as possible surround a great space.—Note by the Author.
Many old countrymen, upon their first arrival in America, are disgusted with the rail fences, and talk about the quickset hedges which they will have upon their land; but it all ends in talk. Wood is adopted for fences in America, as well because of its abundance as because the white and black thorns, used in quickset hedges in England, although they grow, yet do not generally thrive there; besides, the planting, filling up gaps, pruning, ditching, &c., requires much labour, and that is expensive there. Cattle, also, are so used to the bush, that they would make no difficulty of walking through a quickset hedge, unless it were many years old, and well made. Every man can swing the axe there, and most of their woods grow tall in the stem, without knots or branches, for fifty feet or so, and split readily, sometimes even without the wedge. They therefore cut trees, such as ash, oak, elm, birch, and (for the lower rails, to resist the effects of wet) cedar, into twelve or sixteen feet lengths, and then split them, either with the axe alone, or with the assistance of a mall and wedges, into rails of a convenient thickness. These are laid upon the surface of the ground in zig-zag, as mentioned by the author, each overlapping the other by six inches or so, and so on to the height of from six to twelve feet, and, in well-made fences, stakes are also driven firmly into the ground, near the places where the rails meet, one inside and one outside of the fence, at an inclination towards it, their points meeting and crossing each other at the junction of the top rails, and forming, by such crossing, a receptacle for a heavy rail or rider, as it is called, which tops it all, and serves to give the whole stability; thus all nails and iron-work, which are expensive, or wooden pegs, which would require labour, are dispensed with, and a fence is obtained, having nearly the strength of a brick wall, and capable of restraining cattle. Fences without stakes and riders are also used, especially for temporary purposes, supporting themselves by the zig-zag ground-plan and their own weight, but are liable to be invaded by a breachy ox, and are also more liable to be put out of their position. An ox is, in America, termed "breachy" when he has learned to lift the rails off with his horns, which he does by the ends one after another, like any Christian, until it is low enough for him to step over; but if properly staked and ridered he cannot do so. Such oxen are not very common, but never can be cured of the habit, and however well they may work in the yoke, have to be fattened and killed forthwith. When the two or three lower rails, and also the stakes, are of wood, capable of resisting the effect of damp, such as cedar, black ash, &c., a well-made fence will last for an indefinite number of years, but otherwise seven or eight years suffice to rot the lower rails, and to make constant patching necessary, which is almost as bad as making a new fence, for, to get at one of the lower rails, the fence has to be taken down for many lengths on each side, and never can be relaid so well. In the Canadas, and the Northwestern states of the Union, the ground, during winter, is covered with snow, for a distance of ten degrees and more south of corresponding latitudes in the Old World, and this is the season when the timber is easily got out of the bush, or of the swamps, into the clearings, either on low sleighs, or by being snagged—that is, dragged out by oxen and a logging chain.—Tr.
[6]It is not customary for shoemakers in Germany to keep a large stock of shoes; those in the text, of course, were not all made by the seller, but probably in New England, where there are whole towns where nothing else is done. The wooden pegs would surprise an English shoemaker as much as they did the German.—Tr.
[6]It is not customary for shoemakers in Germany to keep a large stock of shoes; those in the text, of course, were not all made by the seller, but probably in New England, where there are whole towns where nothing else is done. The wooden pegs would surprise an English shoemaker as much as they did the German.—Tr.
[7]A brass bason is the German barber's sign—Tr.
[7]A brass bason is the German barber's sign—Tr.
[8]Munich is celebrated throughout Germany for the goodness of its beer.—Tr.
[8]Munich is celebrated throughout Germany for the goodness of its beer.—Tr.
He who awaits the coming morning in a warm, soft bed, in a well-built house, cares little whether it rains and storms without, or whether the sun darts his first rays in a clear blue sky. Perhaps he wraps himself only the more comfortably in his covering, and turns once more for a short morning nap, when the rain beats cold and loud against the window-panes, and the wind whistles madly in chimneys and key-holes, shakes down the soot in the rocking fire-places, turns the rusty old weathercocks, scraping and creaking, backwards and forwards, and howls up and down the streets in wild unfettered play.
But, on the other hand, how anxiously does the invalid on his sick bed, or the poor wanderer, who has had to pitch his roofless, unprotected encampment under the trees of the forest, amidst storm and tempest, look forward to the lingering, lingering dawn of morning! how many times does he turn his eyes on near objects, and gaze searchingly round, to see if he cannot discover a somewhat lighter reflection, a more distinct perception of the surrounding place, which may announce the breaking morning, and promise him at least light, with which he may hope for some alleviation of his torment, or some amendment of his unbearable position!
How ardently, how eagerly, was this morning longedfor by the settlers, who, scarcely conscious where they were, many of them just awakened from a deep sleep, had been turned out, in storm, and rain, and pitchy darkness, into the wild, rustling forest, with scarcely a roof for shelter, and who could not even reconnoitre the place where they were, which, but sparingly lighted by the embers on the hearth at first, was now shrouded in impenetrable darkness.
Add to this, the consciousness of having a human corpse in the room, and of the presence of the still, motionless figure of the young man, who, so long as he sat by the bed-side of his wife, had betrayed no more sign of life than did the dead body by whose side he watched, and whose hand he probably was still, as before, holding in his own.
At last, at last, the first faint glimmer of dawn broke through the cracks of the hut; the grey firmament, so far as the narrow clearing of the wood allowed it to be seen, showed itself lighter and lighter, and the wet foliage rustled and shook more loudly and violently to the morning salute of passing gusts of wind.
Wild, strange, unearthly sounds were heard, at the same time, from without, so that the women started with fright, and huddled closer together, in order, united, to meet with more heart the terrors, which appeared the more awful because they could neither assign to them form or shape.
With the dawn, too, the mosquitoes became unbearable; they attacked in swarms the unfortunate strangers, whose sweet blood appeared to be particularly palatable to them,[9]and no handkerchief wrapped round, no mantle, no veil, could any longer protect them from their innumerable and painful stings; for they searched about, and did not rest, until, somewhere or other on the body they found an unprotected spot, into which they might bury their insatiable little trunks.
It now became lighter and lighter[10]in the little space, and every moment they recognised more distinctly the details of their anything but pleasant environs.
So this was a log-house! Wind and weather found free access on all sides,[11]and even the roof, to which they could look up unimpeded by any ceiling, allowed the rain, which beat down in wild, stormy streams, to come through in large drops. As to household utensils, the dwelling scarcely contained any; at least, none which they could distinguish in the dawning light. The bed, covered with the white mosquito curtains, and supporting the corpse, beside which the young woodsman still sat, silent and motionless, and some rough seats, on which a portion of the settlers had placed themselves, were the only furniture of the forest home.
The settlers had, meanwhile, passed the long melancholy hours in very various and strange groups and positions. It must doubtless have been most difficult for the members of Hehrmann's family to bear their hardships without a complaint, without a murmur; for, accustomed from childhood to the pleasant conveniences of life, and hitherto withdrawn from the discomforts to which others had been exposed during the whole voyage, they had no idea, except from the first few nights in the steerage, of such a situation or such sufferings. Quietly and uncomplainingly the tender beings clung to the husband and the father, who folded them in his arms, and tried to protect them with his cloak from cold, and wet, and mosquitoes.
The rest of the Committee were equally ill lodged; but themen, by a sort of instinct, had cowered down in the chimney-corner, packed as close together as possible, in order to leave no more of their persons exposed to the attacks of the little blood-thirsty enemies which in myriads surrounded them than they were able to defend. The brewer, the shoemaker, the tailor, and Schmidt, as well as a troop of Oldenburghers, and several other groups, composed of Brunswickers and Alsatians, did precisely the same, so that afterwards, when the unpleasant part of the business was past and forgotten, and the settlers remembered the comic side of that night only, Becher was wont to say that the whole company was divided into so many heaps of rats.
Suddenly there was heard without, seemingly quite close to the house, a strange, wild, unearthly noise, rather a howl than a cry—and it sounded so plaintive and awful, like the cry for help of one that was perishing, and then again like the mocking laugh of a maniac, that the trembling girls pressed closer to their father, and many an otherwise brave man, surprised and startled, looked up and listened, with loud beatings of the heart, to the constantly wilder sounds.
"I say, brewer!" said the tailor, pushing him in the side, with all his strength, "what's that?"
"D——n!" swore the latter, who had just dropped off into a doze, and whom the ungentle application called back again to partial wakefulness and suffering—for the two, at present, seemed inseparable—"leave me alone; what should it be!—the watchman!—don't you hear his horn?"[12]
"A fine sort of watchman, that!" said Schmidt. "They don't want a watchman for these two houses—the people in the streets here are quiet enough o' nights, I'll be bound!"
"Don't speak so loud!" whispered the shoemaker; "yonderstill sits the American, beside his dead wife. Ugh! but 'tis awful to have a corpse in the room!"
"Awful!—nonsense!" said the brewer, still half asleep—"not if she lies still!"
"You be quiet, will you!" whispered, fearfully, the tailor; "if he over there hears you, he might take it ill."
"How is he to understand German?" replied the other. "But whatever it may be, it's howling on the other side of the house now. A bear, I dare say!"
"Oh! don't go frightening a fellow so!" exclaimed the tailor, half angry, half frightened. "It's bad enough as we are; it only wants that to make it complete. Oh, geminy! these gnats!"
"There never were such gnats as these before," said Schmidt; "and I think the whole kit must have come across to us."
"Oh, no! the Oldenburghers, over yonder, seem to have got a few, too," grinned the shoemaker, maliciously. "One of 'em keeps hitting himselfsuchraps on the face—his nose will be black and blue to-morrow!"
"I'm getting hungry," yawningly said the brewer, who now began to wake up by degrees. "Is it raining still?"
"No; it has ceased raining," said the shoemaker; "but if the little town here is no better paved than the landing-place, good luck to our shoes! there will be work! Whoever has not got bull-hide straps to keep 'em on, will lose them in the mud!"
"Town!" asked the brewer, who had been round the little clearing. "Town! there's no town here, shoemaker—it must be higher up. I wish I could get something to eat!—I'm very hungry, that's a fact!"
"The howling has taken away all my appetite," whimpered the tailor; "blown it completely away, as it were. However, I shouldn't mind a cup of coffee."
"I should like to know where we are to get coffee from here," said Schmidt; "and if we had any, we couldn't drink it out of our hats; I see no cups."
"Well, then, we could unpack some," said the tailor; "but hush! the man there is moving," he continued, in a low whisper, as the woodsman, rising from his seat, drew back the mosquito net, which had hitherto covered the corpse of his wife.
On a poor-looking mattress, stuffed with moss, lay the body of the young and beautiful American; a plain white calico dress covered her limbs, and her long flowing chestnut hair clung around the pale sunken features of her noble face. The eyes were closed, and on the lids there lay two pieces of silver coin to keep them down. The right hand rested upon the heart, the left lay beside her; she seemed to have fallen asleep gently, and without pain; angelic peace was depicted on her pure and beautiful features.
The young man gazed long and silently upon her, and he watched, as if in a dream, scarcely conscious that he did so, the individual mosquitoes which flew in through the now opened net, expecting a new meal. He noticed how they alighted upon the dear face of his wife, as though they expected to find blood in the dry veins of the corpse, until he himself gazed upon the creatures with stifled breath. It came over him that his Maria—his all in this world—could not be dead, and he expected to see the little blood-suckers swell as they drew in her warm life-juices; but scarcely had they bored their slight and pointed stings through the skin, and appeared to have made the first attempt, before they quickly and tremblingly, with evident signs of fear and alarm, endeavoured to free their little trunks, flew quickly away, and in confused haste sought in vain for the opening by which they had entered.
With a deep sigh the unhappy man let his arm fall, and turned silently away; it was then that his eyes met those of Pastor Hehrmann, who had risen in order to offer words of consolation and of courage to the sufferer. As he was endeavouring to call to mind the little English which he knew, and was making several pauses in speaking, from lack ofwords to express himself; the other made a sign to him with his hand, and said, in good and pure German, but with averted face—
"I am a German, Sir; I understand your language."
"A German! and alone in this neighbourhood?" asked Hehrmann, surprised; "have you been long, then, in such melancholy circumstances?"
"You shall hear all that when I have buried my wife.—Will you help me?"
"Such is not only my wish, but my duty also," said the clergyman, kindly. "But, my dear Sir," he continued, somewhat shyly and almost timidly, "do you live really quite alone in this spot? and is this house situate at the mouth of the Big Halchee?"
"Yes," said the woodman; "the nearest house is three miles below; just such another as this, and only built for the same purpose, cordwood chopping, for sale to the passing steamers."
"And there is no town hereabouts?"
"No," was the short, half-whispered answer.
"And further up the Big Halchee—are there no settlements there?"
The man no longer seemed to hear him; his eye again hung upon the pale countenance of his wife, and he resumed his seat beside her, no longer conscious of what was passing around him.
Pastor Hehrmann did not venture to disturb him again, and the men stared inactively upon the silent suffering figure without knowing what to do, afraid, on the one hand, of disturbing the mourning of the house, anxious, on the other, not to lose time, so valuable to them, in order to reach, at last, the spot which was to be their new home.
It was one of the women who first plucked up resolution,—the usually so bashful and retiring Bertha. She advanced to the hearth, blew the almost extinct embers intoa livelier glow,[13]piled upon the flame such logs of wood as she could find lying round the house, and fetched out some pots and pans which appeared to have been neglected for many days, in order, not only to get ready a wholesome warm meal for the settlers themselves, but for the owner of the house, who, judging from his appearance, had probably not taken any nourishment for several days past.
An example only had been wanting, and greater activity now prevailed on all hands. The women got to work, and some assisted Bertha, while others carried wood and live embers over to the other house, to light a fire there also, and to prepare breakfast simultaneously at both places, for the by no means insignificant number of persons.
Herbold and Becher, who were appointed to the commissariat department, meanwhile went down to the margin of the river, where their chests and other stores, for the most part, were still standing, and gave out the necessary provisions, whilst the elder Siebert, accompanied by his brother and two of the Oldenburghers, looked about the homestead for mattocks and spades, in order to dig a grave for the corpse, but nothing of the kind could be found about the place, and they were compelled to have recourse to their own tool-chest. But the mattocks were at the very bottom of the chest, and had no handles. One of the Oldenburghers fortunately recollected having seen two pickaxes inside the house, and went back to fetch them, when the eye of the young widower fell upon them, and he soon guessed for what purpose they were wanted.
He quickly arose, beckoned the people to follow him, and led them about three hundred yards into the woods, where, inolden times, probably even before the Indians, a simple mound of earth, about ten or twelve feet in height, had been raised. There he begged them to begin their work.
Among the settlers were three carpenters and several cabinet makers, and they proceeded to work together, to construct a coffin, rough, it is true, but still adequate to its purpose, using chiefly the planks of a boat, which they found there ashore and burst. As they were well provided with tools, in less than an hour the last and narrow house stood ready for the reception of its tenant.
The young farmer, whose name, as they subsequently learnt, was Wolfgang, now returned, and the women having prepared breakfast, the rain having ceased, and a sandy place between the hut and the shore being dry, it was spread out there upon chests, and ingeniously-contrived stands.
They had to press the mourner repeatedly before they could induce him to eat a few morsels, and to drink a cup of warm coffee, although, during three days past, no food had crossed his lips; he then went into the house to the corpse of his wife, and wrapped it in the sheet whereon she had been lying, and which was now to be her winding-sheet.
Our four-leaved clover had meanwhile taken little part in the burial preparations, and, after their meal, were just about to stroll slowly off to look a little at the neighbourhood. But their little excursion was destined to be interrupted, for Mr. Becher, who appeared to adapt himself most readily to circumstances, however new to him, and who perceived that continued delay in this place would only tend to tire and to dispirit the emigrants, called together all the able-bodied who had hitherto been unemployed, to put together the two carts which they had brought with them, and to load them with the things which were most indispensable for the present.
Schmidt, as a farmer, and a wheelwright from Brunswick territory, performed the most effective services at this task, and in a short time the conveyances were ready fordeparture. One trifle, certainly, was still wanting, namely, cattle to draw them, and it was not until all was finished, and ready to move on, that the good folks thought of this deficiency.
It is true that neither horses nor other cattle could be seen about the place, but Mr. Becher did not doubt but that the farmer would find some; for the wood, piled up in considerable quantities on the beach, proved clearly enough that more than human strength had been required to get it all to the margin of the stream. But for the moment there appeared no prospect of being able to induce the man, who was engaged in paying the last duties to his wife, to fetch horses or oxen, whichever he might possess, and all further work had to be suspended until the conclusion of that melancholy duty.
Becher himself therefore began to examine the soil and surface upon which they now found themselves, more minutely, and the four allies, with two Oldenburghers and the wheelwright, now wandered along the margin of the Mississippi and looked at the surrounding landscape, as well as at the farm which had received them on their entrance upon their new mode of life with such melancholy and unpropitious omens.
The tailor went ahead upon the narrow footpath which led along the bank of the Mississippi; Becher and Schmidt followed; then came the shoemaker and the brewer, and the Oldenburghers brought up the rear. They had scarcely marched 200 yards in this order before they came to the banks of a muddy brook with a rather wide bed, but which now appeared nearly dried up, and poured its muddy water in a narrow thread only into the Mississippi. Near its mouth several immense cotton-wood and cypress trees lay, wildly thrown together, forming a kind of natural bridge, whilst some broken branches and stems stuck in the mud of the brook in all directions, and appeared sufficient of themselves to prevent navigation, even with a light boat.
Nearly all the stems which projected out of the turbidwater were closely covered with small soft-shelled mud-turtles, which, when they perceived the approaching men on the bank above them, quickly flapped head foremost into the water again.
"A beautiful neighbourhood," said the tailor, stopping at the extreme verge of the bank, and pointing to the scene before them—"a very beautiful neighbourhood; and for this we have travelled, Heaven knows how many hundred miles, to take a summer lodging here! Well, I must say Dr. Normann shows remarkable taste; I really admire it."
His companions, thus brought to a halt, also stared round them, though in silence, and the wild and dreadful desolation and loneliness of the scene probably excited no very pleasurable feelings in them, for, avoiding each other's eyes, during several minutes they gazed upon the wild boundless landscape of swamp and water. Becher, however, looked shyly, sidelong, at the men who had accompanied him, and suddenly began to whistle a waltz with all his might.
The tailor turned round, surprised, towards him, and said, "Yes, a nice time for whistling!"
The wide expanse spread out before them was by no means calculated to produce an agreeable impression on new comers, particularly upon such as had not been accustomed to a flat country. On their left the muddy flood of the mighty Mississippi rolled rapidly and maliciously by, whilst, from the opposite side of the little brook, beside which they were standing, a sand-bank stretched out in smooth, monotonous, evenness, farther and farther still, into the stream, until, in the grey distance, where the latter took a mighty sweep to the right, it seemed to connect itself with the opposite shore, and to absorb the enormous mass of waters. The other side of the Mississippi also presented to the view a flat landscape of deep forest and swamp, uninterrupted by a single hill.
The vegetation was certainly grand, and these gigantic stems, which rose, smooth and faultless, to a height which they had never before contemplated, produced a strange, almostuneasy impression upon the wanderers; then again the wild vines and creepers which wound themselves from stem to stem, the wild and desert-looking fallen masses of wood, often half rotten, the enormous withered trunks, which here and there, as if stifled by the creeping plants, madly stretched their naked giant arms towards heaven, as if supplicating help, gave the whole such a gloomy, forbidding aspect, that the little tailor, after a minute's pause of astonishment, drew a long breath, as though he would have removed something from his heart; at last he turned round to his friends and fellow-travellers behind him, and said—
"Well, I had imagined the thing quite different from this; for if——"
To the boundless astonishment of the rest, the tailor had all at once disappeared; but before they had time to advance a step, they already heard, down below, in slime and water, a crying and splashing, which proceeded from their unfortunate comrade, who now, when at last he got firm footing, cried out lustily for help; for he could not comprehend where he was, how he had got there, and whether he had reached the end of his career, or was destined to proceed further and further downwards.
"Hallo, below there!" cried Becher, who soon ascertained that the tailor had received no injury, and that there was no further danger—"Hallo, there! is it a good soil? to what depth is it arable?"
"Help! help!" cried the little one, who was in no humour for joking—"Help! help! I am drowning! I can't swim! I must drown!"
Close to him, not three yards off, there was a young cypress tree which had fallen into the brook, and Becher now called to him to reach one of its branches until they could fetch a rope from the house and draw him up.
Meier, however, seemed noways inclined to take a step towards his own safety; fear had almost deprived him of hissenses, and he continued to cry, "Help! help! I'm drowning! I can't swim!"
The houses were not very distant, and several of the women, who had heard the cries for help, hastened towards them, whilst the shoemaker ran, as fast as his legs would carry him, back to the landing place, to bring the necessary ropes from thence. But even then the most pressing requests and explanations were required to make the little man understand how he was to wind the rope round his body and fasten it; his whole presence of mind had forsaken him, and he considered himself lost beyond salvation.
At last he so far recovered his senses as to be able to tie a knot, and by their united strength (for the mud in which he stuck was tough) he was, after long pulling, and amidst the laughter of the women, brought to light. No sooner, however, did he feel himself on terra-firma again, than he doubled himself up, and swore hard and fast that a tremendous great snake had bitten him in the foot, and that he should die a lingering, miserable death.
They had a good deal of trouble to convince him of the contrary, but ultimately he felt that he was safe and sound, and turned back with the others to the laden carts, thenceforward, however, he could not be prevailed upon to come within fifty yards of the steep banks of either river or brook.
The sun was tolerably high in the heavens before the remainder of the settlers returned from the burial of the young American woman; about the same time the wood cart belonging to Wolfgang arrived, drawn by two powerful oxen, beside which walked a negro boy about twelve years old, with a very long whip, who drove forward the cattle, which were in a wooden yoke, as well by blows as by words. He stared with surprise on finding so numerous and unexpected a company assembled in so quiet a spot as that generally was.
The burial of his wife appeared to have restored all his former energy and power to the young German, and he waseven ready to assist the strangers with council and deed, when Pastor Hehrmann had hastily made him acquainted with their immediate plan of settling not far from him, as well as with their wish to reach their destination as soon as possible. First of all he directed the negro boy to blow a horn,[14]which was in the house, to call in the other labourer, who was still at work in the woods, and then to put the oxen to the settlers' laden cart.
But here a new difficulty presented itself; this was the only yoke of working oxen which the German possessed, and he informed them that their road lay through a swamp, which would be so muddy and bad to get through, after the recent rains, that but a very light load could be taken.
"But would it not be possible to forward the cargo much more easily and quickly to its destination by the Big Halchee?" said Pastor Hehrmann; "a couple of stout rowers——"
"Would be easily able to execute the task," interrupted Wolfgang, "if they had water enough for navigation; the Big Halchee is not navigable at present."
"Is it far from here?" asked Becher.
"That gentleman can tell you the precise distance," said the farmer, pointing to Meier, the story of whose misfortunes he had just heard; "he was in it."
"What, is that the Big Halchee?" asked Becher and Siebert, startled.
"That is the Big Halchee," repeated the farmer, nodding; "but why do you ask? had you imagined it more agreeable, or larger?"
"Certainly," said Herbold, dispirited; "we heard that it was navigable, and that there was a small town at its mouth."
"According to American notions," replied the youngfarmer, a slight smile passing over his pale features, "both assertions might be maintained. It is navigable in spring, that is to say, down stream, for you cannot make way against the current when the water is high."
"But the town," asked Pastor Hehrmann, in surprise—"you don't mean to call your solitary house a town?"
"If you were to travel through the United States," said Wolfgang, "you might meet with many not more considerable towns than this, and with much more sounding names; but the place here is not called a town; it was only proposed to build Halchee Town here, and some speculators planned out the streets. You may still see the trees marked out in the woods; the Mississippi rose suddenly just then, washed away the little huts which they had erected here; one of the land-dealers was drowned, too, I think, and the thing was dropped."
"But are you not afraid that such a flood may reach you some time or other, and sweep you away with it?" asked Hehrmann, with signs of alarm.
"Certainly, that is by no means impossible; and next year is a leap year,[15]too, when the Mississippi regularly overflows its banks, sometimes more, sometimes less, and I was thinking of removing across to Arkansas, or down to Mississippi; but now," he continued, in a low voice, while two large bright tears came into his eyes,—"now I shall remain here; if the flood should really rise—well—I have nothing more to lose."
"But, tell me, my dear Mr. Wolfgang," Hehrmann asked in terror, "are all the dwellings along the river exposed to these dreadful dangers?—When that mighty stream once overflows its banks, such a mass of water must be irresistible."
"Do you see these marks?" Wolfgang asked, pointing tosome faint, scarce distinguishable, light spots, which might be made out about eight feet from the ground, upon the bark of the trees under which they stood. "Do you see these marks? thus high the water rose last spring; my house, it is true, lies higher than this, yet it came into our room, and it carried off about thirty cords of wood with it."
"And you remained here?"
"What will not one do to earn money? The steamers use much wood, and pay tolerably well; I wanted to lay by enough to buy a little farm by and by in a wholesome district; now my wife is dead, and I——But let us start; it is getting late."
"But you are not going to leave your house now to accompany us?" asked Siebert, surprised; "suppose in the meanwhile——"
"My other negro will remain here," Wolfgang interrupted him. "Sam, the old fellow whom you see coming yonder, is faithful and honest; I can rely upon him; besides, you would hardly reach your destination without a guide, so that there is no choice."
"Oh, we might follow the road, you know," said Becher.
"Yes, if there were a road thither," answered the farmer, "but to the spot which you have described to me there leads no road, and if there are really houses there, the place must be very much overgrown with second-growth brush, otherwise I must have come upon them in some of my hunting expeditions; perhaps it is the place which the hunters call the dead clearing."
"Have you much game in this neighbourhood?" asked Von Schwanthal, who appeared much interested in this subject.
"Pretty well," replied the farmer, "but it is difficult to get at; the woods are too close, and the game itself is shy; it requires a practised hunter to track and kill a deer."
"Do you happen to know a certain Dr. Normann?" Becher now suddenly inquired, as if struck by a new idea.
"Normann?" said the farmer, trying to recollect, "Normann; no, the name is strange to me—why?"
"It is the name of the man who sold us this piece of land," said Pastor Hehrmann; "from all, however, that I have hitherto seen, I scarcely think that he ever set foot here, and almost dread that Mr. Helldorf's prophecies will be fulfilled."
"Helldorf?" asked Wolfgang, in his turn, surprised; "Helldorf—where did you meet with him?"
"In New York," said Siebert; "do you know him?"
"DoI know him!" replied Wolfgang; "I passed my happiest time here in America, beside him in Arkansas, and had it not been for my mad endeavour to earn a sum of money, I might have been still with my Maria at the foot of the pleasant Magazine Hill. Oh! that I had never seen the Mississippi again."
"Then you consider this climate very unhealthy?"
"Unhealthy!" said the German, in a low, hollow tone—"unhealthy!" he repeated, even lower still. "In the first year, my wife's sister died—that ought to have been a warning to me; in the same fall, my child; to-day we have buried my wife; and next spring, it is to be hoped, will find me by her side."
"Come with us to the hills, then, where a healthier air blows," said Herbold; "you can get land from us, and——"
"To the hills?" asked the German, surprised; "how far up the Big Halchee are you going, then?"
"Well, the land is said to be fifteen miles from the Mississippi," said Becher; "that's a pretty good distance."
"Yes," replied Wolfgang, "but then, you are still fifteen miles from the hills, and in no healthier district than this is; on the contrary, you want the air from the river, which is often fresh; a number of small lakes, too, cross the country in all directions, and evaporate, for the most part, in summer, and fill the atmosphere during four months of theyear with their poisonous exhalations. Just now is the most unhealthy time."
"The devil it is!" said Von Schwanthal; "the worthy doctor never said a word about that."
"If he was ever in the valley of the Mississippi, he certainly must have known it," replied the farmer; "but now we'll be off; Scipio has been cracking his whip for the last quarter of an hour."
The emigrants parted unwillingly from the bulk of their remaining property, which at first they could scarcely resolve to leave by the waterside, merely under the superintendence of a negro; but at last they were convinced that a theft could hardly be committed here, for such a hut was certainly not a spot in the neighbourhood at which such valuables would be looked for. The chests and boxes, therefore, which contained the most necessary articles for the moment, to commence life in the midst of the woods, were placed on the carts, and even of these another selection had to be made; then the party set itself in motion, under the guidance of the farmer, who went first, and with an axe cut down, where necessary, the underbrush and young trees which stood in their way, or called into requisition the united strength of the men, to drag aside obstructions in the shape of occasional mighty trunks of fallen, rotten or half rotten trees, and thus made way for the wagon, which fortunately was narrow across the wheels.
The Germans were not a little nor agreeably surprised, when they discovered, after scarce an hour's progress, that the broad path which they had hitherto followed, was a mere track for getting out wood, and that now they had to shape their course straight through the woods—andsuchwoods.
Fearful doubts now began to arise, even in the breast of Hehrmann, who had hitherto considered Dr. Normann an honest man, and it was with some anxiety that he looked forward to their entrance upon their new landed property.
While walking beside Wolfgang, he entered into conversation with him, and soon learnt the story of his simple, although active life.
Wolfgang hastily passed over a dark period in Arkansas, where a stranger, who was a German too, had sown hatred and discord, and stained their pleasant clearings with blood; and he related how, far away, up the Ozark mountains, he had become acquainted with his wife; had fallen in love with her, and whilst still a young girl married her; had founded a home in the midst of the wild woods, and lived happily, until, driven by the desire for ready money, which was not to be had at all there, he had quitted the healthy hill air to come down into the poisonous swamps.
He concluded his story (which Mr. Hehrmann listened to with bowed head and sorrowfully throbbing heart) by saying, "Mr. Hehrmann, you now, with wife and child, come from a healthy, cool climate, in the middle of summer, into the swampy atmosphere of this river, thereforebeware. If wife and children are dear to you, commence your American farmer's life in some other district. You have yet the choice; this whole enormous country is yet open to you; all the northern, healthy states, Missouri, Iowa, Wisconsin, even the northern hilly part of Arkansas, if you are desirous of choosing a milder climate; forsake these poison-impregnated swamps, where a German, unless already acclimatized, cannot exist, or at all events cannot remain in health; I speak from experience."
"Mr. Helldorf said so too," replied the preacher, thoughtfully.
"Mr. Helldorf knows the country," said Wolfgang, "he has wandered through it many a long year, and whatever he may have told you is true, you may rely upon it. As to your Dr. Normann, I certainly don't know the good man, and will therefore say no ill of him, but here in America there is such a host of land-speculators, particularly in the seaport towns, that the emigrant cannot be too cautious; I amalmost afraid that you have fallen into the hands of such a one, and if so, why of course you must try to make the best of a bad bargain."
"I say," remarked the shoemaker to the tailor, stumbling for the fourth time over a projecting root, and this time really hurting himself, "if I had any capital invested in this speculation, I should quietly begin to tear my hair out by the roots, but as it is, I can look on, and I must confess that I am curious to know how it will end."
"Well, look after your feet, at all events," said the other, as the shoemaker tripped again. "You do nothing but stumble. No; shares are beginning to fall, so far I am of your opinion; but what matters;Ishall eat my way through; I've no fear of that; and if M. Von Schwanthal only shoots as much game as he has promised, and we get meat, and such meat, too, three times a day, I don't mind about this little mud excursion. Moreover, I've been on the look-out for some time past after a deer; it's strange that, in such a forest as this, the game should not be running about more plentifully. But, shoemaker, did you imagine the river on which our town was to be built, like what it really is?"
"How? what is it really? it does not exist at all. Callthata river!"
"Well, what I mean is, did you imagine it like what it is?"
"I don't exactly know," said the shoemaker, with a sly laugh at the tailor, "I have not examined it so narrowly as you have, you know; you have awell-groundedacquaintance with it."
"A fine subject for joking, to be sure," said the little one, indignantly; "suppose I had been drowned?"
"If we creep along in this style," said Schmidt, who now joined in the conversation, "we shall certainly not come to our journey's end to-day; we don't advance a hundred yards straight forward, before some tree or other has to be cut downto make room for the wagon. Are there no foresters[16]here, I wonder?"
"Yes, a nice place this for foresters," said the brewer; "foresters inthiswood! But if we don't soon reach some place where one may get something to drink, I shall get thirsty. What do you call all the towns, then, that are said to be in this neighbourhood? Deuce take it; where there are so many towns, there must surely be some village or other to be met with."
The worthy brewer was not aware, that in the United States of North America everything, even a group of two or three houses only, is called a town. A grand name, some ancient Greek or Roman one if possible, throws sand into the eyes of foreigners, and the land speculators in the large towns often sell "lots," as they call them, to emigrants, who expect to find a lively, animated place, and instead, have to be thankful if they can meet with anybody at all there to supply them with bread to begin with.
The women had meanwhile reconciled themselves to their wanderings as well as they could, and only one of them, a young girl, who was sick, and unable to walk, had been, on that account, placed upon the wagon, where, upon some spread-out mattresses between the well-secured chests, she had a sufficiently convenient, although not very quiet place, for the wagon, owing to the rough uneven road, tumbled about dreadfully. The Hehrmanns went foremost, and evidently struggled to let no melancholy humour be seen, although the tough mud which they had to wade through, and the innumerable stringy, and sometimes prickly, creeping plants, which entangled their feet, while the thorns penetrated their stockings, and tore their ancles and insteps till they bled,made walking as troublesome and unpleasant as well could be.
Thus they wandered and wandered on, until the sun went down below the tree tops, for fortunately he had driven away the clouds of rain, and the heaven extended its blue tent, brightly and clearly, over the travellers; but the close oppressive heat, on the other hand, operated yet more unfavourably upon them, because no good water was to be had, wherewith to quench their burning thirst. The wished-for fresher evening air at last cooled their heated faces, although the mosquitoes, which had lain concealed during the glowing heat, now re-appeared with fresh vigour. Yet they cared less for these than for the burning rays of the sun, and wandered forward with quickened and more elastic tread. But ere long, their silent leader intimated to them that they must bivouack where they were, for that he could not trust himself to keep a straight course after dark, and besides that, to proceed further at night was not only extremely wearisome, but even dangerous.
This was bearable enough in the mild summer air, and all of the party were easily and readily reconciled to it; the coverings which they had brought with them were therefore stretched out to keep the dew from the women, and soft beds of leaves were collected to make the first night in the woods as pleasant as possible; and the men also laid themselves down beside the fires which Wolfgang had lighted, whilst the provisions which they had taken with them stewed and roasted at the crackling flames.
And now again, fortunately, at a great distance, at first, the awful sounds were heard which had filled the settlers with such terror on the previous evening, and they were not a little astonished to learn that those dreadful notes proceeded from owls—and very insignificant little owls, too. Von Schwanthal, somewhat later, tried to shoot one; but although several of them, attracted by the fire, approached them, andgave out their monotonous horrid song in the tree tops close above them, yet the foliage was too close to permit the eye of the marksman to perceive them in the darkness, and he discharged both barrels in the direction in which he guessed the noisy nocturnal bird to be—to the great terror of the female portion of the society, the tailor included—without, however, even interrupting the bird, much less driving it away.
Fortunately, the night remained dry, although the sky became overcast again, otherwise the situation of the poor Germans, unaccustomed to such privations, would have been a melancholy one. As it was, sleep visited the closed eyelids of the wearied at intervals only, for the strange noises which surrounded them on all sides, the dreary rustling of the gigantic trees, and even occasionally the stealthy, cautious footstep of some deer or wolf, that slunk round the bivouack, and only scented its enemies when it got to the leeward side, and then fled in hasty bounds—these kept them in continual excitement.
At last, morning came. The oxen, which had remained yoked during the night, were put-to once more; the quickly-prepared breakfast was despatched, and the caravan moved on again, sometimes painfully, through little muddy brooks and standing pools; sometimes going round a wild and dreary looking lake, without defined banks; sometimes forcing their way through reed-brakes, sometimes through closely-tangled creepers, until at last Hehrmann, who, according to his calculation, had traversed a distance of twenty-five, instead of fifteen miles, addressed the guide, and inquired whether he did not think that he might have lost his way, for that it was impossible they could be far from the designated spot, if they had really constantly kept the true course.
"Oh, we have followed that," replied Wolfgang; "moreover, the frequent turning aside to avoid wet and impenetrable places has much prolonged our journey; but if my senses do not deceive me, we are now at the very place."
"On the right road, you mean," said Siebert, senior, who had likewise approached them, and now looked about him,right and left, apparently in search of some outlet by which they might avoid a thick copse, closely overgrown with young timber, which lay right before them, and which, on account of the many creeping plants and underbrush, was impenetrable.
"No; at the very spot itself!" said Wolfgang, observing the place attentively. "Do you see yonder tree, which has been felled in by-gone times?" he continued, addressing the men, who pressed round him. "The lower part is wanting—it has been used for rails; and yonder—yes, it's a fact, I am not mistaken!—yonder stood the fence. Look you, here are some single, half-rotten portions of it."
"But the field!" said Becher, alarmed.
"Was this thicket," replied the German, "now, it is true, a chaos of woods and underbrush. The land, for that matter, seems very good!"
"But we were to find land fit for the plough!" exclaimed Herbold, advancing, in real alarm. "You don't mean to tell us that this wilderness is the fifteen-acre field!"
"I have never been here before," replied Wolfgang, quietly, "and must therefore examine the place first. But if your land has not been cultivated for fifteen years, you may rely, in case this really should not be it, that it will hardly look better than that which lies before you! But we will hope for the best! Look you, a road has once led through here, this tree has formerly been blazed, although the bark has almost grown together again. It will be best to leave the wagon with the women behind us, and go round this wilderness, first of all; if we can't find the houses, we may come upon the section line—for according to your deed the land has really been surveyed—then we shall know directly where we are and what we are about."
"I doubt that!" said the shoemaker, to Schmidt. "One tree looks to me just like another, here; and if I were called upon, at this moment, to say from which direction we came here, I should have to guess!"
"Well, I must admit, too," said Schmidt, "that so long as the roads here are in no better condition, so long I shall not wander far from the rest—for whoever loses himself is done for!"
"Come along!" said the tailor; "there's a house to be searched for!"
"Where is the house, then?" asked the shoemaker, quickly.
"Well, that's just what they're searching for!" grinned the tailor. "Stupid as you are, you must know that!"
"Hark ye," said the shoemaker, savagely, "drop your larks—none of us are in the humour to listen to your nonsense just now! But let us go along, too; I should like to know whether our guide has found the right way!"
Scipio had now to halt with his team; and, in fact, he would not have been able, without the help of the axe, to advance any further; for every road and outlet was wildly overgrown, and scarcely passable on foot, much less with a four-wheeled wagon. Following, therefore, the course of a small brook which ran in a north-easterly direction towards the Big Halchee, after a short march, keeping to the margin of the thicket, and, as Wolfgang now positively asserted, former field, they reached the Big Halchee, and also, close to its soft, friable banks, a little log hut. However, Wolfgang warned them from entering it; for the earth round about, as he observed to the by-standers, was cracked, and the little house was every hour exposed to be precipitated into the muddy bed of the stream, as, apparently, had happened to the former appendant and now vanished buildings, of which Pastor Hehrmann was then thinking.
"But is it not possible," said Becher, despondingly, "that we may be at the wrong place? You might, perhaps——"
"Yonder tree is the north-east corner of the section," replied Wolfgang, pointing to an oak standing at no great distance, the greater part of the rind on one side of which was peeled off, and on which some roughly-carved numbers and marks were still discernible.
"Then the dwelling-house has fallen down at some earlier time?" said Siebert, junior.
"There it stands!" replied the farmer. "A better dwelling than that was, in former times, you seldom meet with in this wild neighbourhood. How many buildings are specified, then?"
"A dwelling-house, with chimney—a smoking-house—a kitchen—a stable—and a maize-crib," read Siebert, senior, from his pocket-book, which he had got out.
"Do you not see that I was right?" said Wolfgang. "Here you have proofs of my assertion: these are the remains of the former chimney, which now certainly totters over the precipice, and may crumble and fall next night. The smoking-house must have gone before, at some earlier time; and the kitchen too, for I see nothing of them. But the stable is probably yonder heap of fallen logs; at least, there is no trace of any chimney there, and the distance of a stable from the house is also about the right one."
"And the maize-crib?" asked Pastor Hehrmann.
"Probably stood in the field," said Wolfgang. "Doubtless the remains might be found in yonder thicket; but it would hardly be worth while to seek for them, for such maize-cribs are easily raised, with split logs, mostly of ordinary fence-rails, and they generally rot in six or seven years."
"But, in the name of goodness, what are we to do with the women? Here we have brought the unfortunate creatures into the midst of the forest, without a roof or shelter; they cannot bear it."
"Oh yes, though," replied Wolfgang, with a gentle nod of the head, "they can bear much, very much, and a few nights in the open air is not the worst that could happen to them. It is fortunate, however, that I came with you myself," he continued, in a livelier strain; "you might have fared ill by yourselves, unaccustomed to the country and the climate."
"How far are we from the nearest town?" asked Siebert,senior; "it would, perhaps, be best, after all, to take them there until we have erected habitations."
"No," said Wolfgang, decidedly, "that is impossible; first, the place is more than thirty miles off; then, as I have heard from hunters, there are several lakes between this and it, before one gets to the hills, and besides, I don't know the exact direction. But, even if we could reach the town on a smooth, even road, I would not advise you to leave the women over there by themselves, for such little towns are for the most part inhabited by a rough, vicious people, the scum of the backwoods, and everything is so frightfully dear, that the money which is here so hardly earned is squandered on the people there. No, we will soon knock up a few sheds, which will at least keep off wind and rain for awhile; when that is done, I shall return to my own house, and send the old negro to you with a portion of your remaining things; he may stay here a couple of weeks, and put what you require into something like a regular train."
"But, my dear Mr. Wolfgang, how shall we ever be able to repay your kindness?"
"Make yourself easy on that score, you have done more for me; I shall never forget how kindly you buried my poor wife for me. Besides, this is no more than a neighbour's office; for you will learn, by and by, how far neighbourhood extends in the woods. However, strictly examined, I am rather selfish than otherwise; for I must have an occupation to amuse me, and after all that has occurred, of which you have only witnessed the tragical end, I should go mad, did I now remain alone and inactive upon my farm. Therefore, Courage! things will go better. If you were not here, this would be one of the last places which I should have recommended to you; but as it is, you are here, and all further delay and complaint are now useless."
"But to think that we can't even use one of the houses to shelter the women!" exclaimed Herbold, stamping angrily with his foot. "Plague upon the stealthy rascal who hasdeceived and betrayed us under a friendly face; if I could only catch him."
"Either he has deceived you," said Wolfgang, "or has been himself deceived; still, you yourselves are chiefly to blame for your misfortune—to give it its true name. You should not have bought directly, but should have first seen your bargain. Even in Germany you would not have purchased an estate without seeing it."
"But, then, the low price!" pleaded Becher.
"You have an answer to that here," replied Wolfgang, "if the land had been presented to you, it would still have been bought too dearly if it did not please you, and you had to undertake a long journey to it with wife and child, with bag and baggage. But it will be a warning to all of you for the future. Moreover, I recommend you to remain here no longer than is necessary to get over the first alarm, and to enable you to look round either in the neighbourhood, or the adjoining states, for a healthier district; to travel about at random with so many people wont do at all. You must first find something that will suit you. Until then, this place is good enough, and when that is done, we will migrate together, for I, too, must first get my stock of cordwood to the river side, and there sell it."
"But the houses," repeated Herbold.
"I should not have advised you to have entered them even had they been standing; snakes and all kinds of vermin take up their abode in such ruinous old wooden buildings. But to work! I will now give you some practical lessons in house raising."
"Are you a carpenter?" asked the shoemaker.
"Not exactly, but everything else that is wanted, or rather, that necessity teaches us, in the woods. But of that hereafter: you will learn all that yourselves—one single year in America, in the bush, often does wonders."
"But we must make arrangements for the night," said Pastor Hehrmann; "we must not allow the women to beexposed to any accidental storm that may arise—the sky, too, is cloudy."
"Do not fear, my good sir," said Wolfgang; "do you see the roof of yonder house? Although the planks[17]upon it are for the most part rotten, yet we shall probably find among them enough to erect a temporary roof for to-day and to-morrow. We shall get along by-and-by; first of all we must find the place where you think of erecting your future abode; when that is done, we will take the luggage there, unpack the wagon, bring it here, and fetch away all the boards that we can find, which are good for anything. Luckily, I have brought tools for splitting such slabs as we may want, for I guessed that the place would look pretty much as it does—and as——"
"Mr. Wolfgang, you have become our guardian angel," said Pastor Hehrmann, gratefully grasping his hand. "What should we have done if we had arrived in this desert without you? the very idea is shocking; for, unfortunately, even as it is, with you, it is bad enough. But you are right; further reflections are unavailing here, and we must now prove that we not only wish to become American farmers, but that we have the strength and perseverance to carry out our resolution."
Wolfgang, quite aroused from his sorrow by the need in which he saw so many of his fellow countrymen plunged, by the appeal made to his whole activity and knowledge of life in the woods, and who hoped to find alleviation, or at least temporary forgetfulness of his grief in distraction,undertook the cause of the new settlers with cheerful zeal; he soon chose a somewhat elevated spot, not far from running water, and near enough, also, to the place where the people would have to clear their first field; then worked and toiled as though he were about to found a home for himself, and to clear and till his own land.
They quickly removed thither the things which they had brought with them, and pacified the women as well as they could, concerning their disappointed expectations; for to conceal the facts from them for that day would have availed nothing but to have made them anxious all night, and to have still, of necessity, learnt them on the following morning.
The plan with the old planks turned out well; the greater part of them were still serviceable, only the getting them down was attended with some danger. But the tailor, on the one side, and Scipio, on the other, performed essential services on the occasion, and the former boasted not a little of the dangers to which he had been exposed, when, two nights later, the ruinous hut, with the whole piece of ground on which it stood, really followed the kitchen and the smoke house.
The precaution for the encampment proved to have been necessary, for towards morning there fell a tolerably smart shower of rain, from which all the settlers were protected, and next day they proceeded with fresh energy to the erection of the shanties in which they intended to pass the winter.
But now it appeared how much they all had to learn, for no one knew how to handle the axe, and in splitting the four feet long slabs, they were all, even the carpenters themselves, very awkward. Wolfgang did not allow any trouble to put him out, but worked from morning until late, and on the evening of the second day he had the satisfaction of seeing that all had a roof to their heads, and that the company was at least sheltered from storm and rain.
The articles left behind, on the banks of the Mississippi, now began to be much wanted, and their friendly helperdetermined to return with his negro, and to send up the other black to the raising of the houses and chimneys.[18]He promised to relieve him again himself, for it would still be too quiet and lonely for him on his desolate hearth; received a few commissions to buy provisions for them of the steamers which might land there, and, after bidding a hearty farewell to all his newly-acquired, and worthily deserved friends, left the "dead clearing," as the place had really been called, on account of its desolation, by the hunters who made excursions thereabouts.
The entire colony now consisted of fifty-three persons, children included; of mechanics, there were, three carpenters, two cabinet-makers; a blacksmith, a locksmith, the tailor, shoemaker, and brewer, a tanner, and a glazier's apprentice. The latter, a young lad, had only come out to New York with them in search of his father, but had ascertained from an acquaintance, whom he accidentally met there, that his parent had died, and had been buried about three weeks before.
The poor boy, who was scarce fourteen years old, had now no other resource but to join the society, which kindly received him; there was very little stirring in his own way of business, it is true, at present; for glazing windows, there were wanting not only sashes for the panes, but houses for the sashes; but he soon found out that the axe played a prominent part in the woods, and determined to devote all his skill to that.
Wolfgang perceived, even during the first few days, with what zeal the boy worked, when he could get hold of the American axe for a few minutes; for those which they hadbrought with them from Germany were not of much use, except as wedges, and when he returned to the Mississippi, he left it with the boy, in order that he might exercise himself in its use.
Charles, as he was universally called by the passengers of the Hoffnung, did not require to be told this twice; from morning until evening, he stood in the woods, and hacked, and chopped, and thought himself richly rewarded, when he could hear the mighty stems fall with a loud crash.[19]
The shoemaker, the tailor, and the brewer, did not participate in this passion in the least. Working in the open air was altogether disagreeable to them; to stand in the sun all day, and "hack about at that hard wood," as the tailor expressed himself, did not agree at all with their constitutions. But, as even the committee-men worked hard, and as Pastor Hehrmann, in particular, from early till late, was the first at work and the last to quit it, they were ashamed to lag behind, so did their best. Meier always doubled himself up like a clasp-knife, when he got under the shed of an evening, and during all the first week was too fatigued to eat a morsel. The shoemaker intimated, on his part, that were he in Germany, he should join the society for prevention of cruelty to animals.
One only of the male portion of the colony had not yet done a stroke of work, either with the axe or otherwise; this was Von Schwanthal; for provisions were wanting, or, at least, want before long could be foreseen, and the hunter shouldered his double-barrel, and stalked into the woods.
Now there was nothing unusual in this; on the contrary, it was a matter of course; every company that bivouacks in the woods—be they raftsmen, on the banks or neighbourhood of a stream, or settlers, or even trappers of beavers and otters,—have their hunters, often five or six men, who hunt in thevicinity of the camp, and regularly bring in their booty. The colony stood much in need of such a hunter, or rather, of several such, but Von Schwanthal was not the man for it; for hardly had he ventured a hundred paces into the thicket—scarcely did he find himself surrounded on all sides by heaven-aspiring trees and wild bush, before he listened attentively for the sound of the axes, as it reverberated towards him, so that he might not possibly miss the direction; and he would not have been induced to leave the neighbourhood of the people for all the game in the world. That he could not get a shot in this way may be imagined, and he came back regularly every evening, weary and hungry, in order to victual himself again for the following morning, to beat about the semicircle, with which he now began to be tolerably acquainted, once more, and afterwards to abuse the neighbourhood in which fortune had cast them, for want of game.
The old negro arrived about this time, with the second load, several more axes, a barrel of flour, a barrel of beans, and a barrel of salt pork; he brought also a fowling-piece, one of the long Yankee rifles, with him.
Von Schwanthal viewed this new shooting apparatus with a very incredulous smile, for the rough stock, carved out of very common wood, the old, rusty barrel itself, which certainly could not boast of a promising appearance, the large knife with a brown wooden handle, the old leather bag, with a couple of flints, two bullets, a screw-driver, and a mould; these, taken altogether, looked anything but sportsmanlike, and contrasted very unfavourably with the excellent apparatus of the German sportsman.
But when the latter got up, on the ensuing morning, he heard a shot at no great distance from him, and looked about everywhere for Sam; but Sam had started before daybreak, and shortly returned, panting under the weight of a splendid young deer, which he carried upon his shoulders.
This disgrace had to be wiped off. Von Schwanthal never could look any one in the face again, if that fellowscarcely got his rubbishing old gun out, before he returned laden with spoil, whilehehad been on the look-out during four entire days, and had not brought home so much as a claw. The time for exertion had arrived; the zealous hunter hardly gave himself time to swallow his breakfast, and hurried off as fast as his feet would carry him, right into the trackless thicket. But when arrived there, his sporting ardour cooled down considerably, for he reflected upon the hopeless condition of a person who should lose his way in those swamps; but his feeling of honour got the better of this thought; his entire reputation as a sportsman was at stake; hemustkill something or other. He was well enough aware, though, that so close to the camp, where the game could hear the strokes of the axe, and the rasping of the saw, as well, if not better than he could himself, there was no chance; taking care, therefore, to keep the sun straight before him, he walked right on in that direction; he avoided no thicket, no fallen tree, but pressed on through the one, and climbed over the other, and soon found himself above his knees in water, in a swamp which spread itself out before him, and as far, at least, as he could see, was nowhere bounded by higher ground.
What was to be done now? Should he turn back, or endeavour to force his way through that desert of swamp, and catch a dreadful cold, if he got nothing else? Suddenly, he heard something splash to his right; immediately afterwards, a couple of dry boughs snapped, and yonder—yonder, scarce thirty yards distant from him—bounded a mighty stag, in an open place in the woods, where the water, too, seemed to be but a few inches in depth. For a moment, the hunter stood as if thunderstruck, for the whole had taken place so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that he could hardly recover himself; at last, however, he mechanically raised the gun to his shoulder, and pulled the trigger.