FOOTNOTE:[20]The Levee in New Orleans, and indeed throughout Louisiana, is the dyke or dam thrown up along the Mississippi, which hinders the stream from overflowing the adjoining lands, which, when the waters are high, are on a lower level than itself. In New Orleans, it is more especially used as a landing place for steamers and a public promenade, and in general is the scene of the greatest bustle, on account of the constant arrival and departure of ships and vessels, while dealers and hawkers increase the throng and noise.
[20]The Levee in New Orleans, and indeed throughout Louisiana, is the dyke or dam thrown up along the Mississippi, which hinders the stream from overflowing the adjoining lands, which, when the waters are high, are on a lower level than itself. In New Orleans, it is more especially used as a landing place for steamers and a public promenade, and in general is the scene of the greatest bustle, on account of the constant arrival and departure of ships and vessels, while dealers and hawkers increase the throng and noise.
[20]The Levee in New Orleans, and indeed throughout Louisiana, is the dyke or dam thrown up along the Mississippi, which hinders the stream from overflowing the adjoining lands, which, when the waters are high, are on a lower level than itself. In New Orleans, it is more especially used as a landing place for steamers and a public promenade, and in general is the scene of the greatest bustle, on account of the constant arrival and departure of ships and vessels, while dealers and hawkers increase the throng and noise.
And how were the settlers getting on in the meantime? Had they reconciled themselves to their new position? Had they forgiven Dame Fortune for having cast their lot out in a woody desert?
No. They, of whom one would have least expected it, namely, the women—were the most patient; the men, on the other hand, especially the Oldenburghers, grumbled dreadfully, and declared often enough that they were entitled to expect a better kind of life in return for the payment of so large a capital. 'Tis true that they could no longer reproach the Committee with pride or exclusiveness, for they lived in the midst of them, ate the same food, and laboured at the same tasks; but that, in fact, was one of their chief grievances, that they really had no reasonable pretence for complaint.
Under Wolfgang's direction, and with his active help, sufficient shanties were erected to protect the whole of the settlers from wind and rain; and, indeed, to afford them as convenient a shelter as is usual in those parts. They had also begun to clear the land—that is, to fell the trees and to grub up the bushes, and the immediate necessaries of life forthe present were provided for, Wolfgang having bought a sufficient quantity of flour and salt meat from a steamer which stopped at his place to take in wood, and having sent up these stores by his negro.
What was it that they wanted, then?
Everything! How had the ideas which they had cherished in their old home been verified? Where were those fertile plantations, where that super-abundance of produce, that easy life of which they had dreamed? Alas! it had, indeed, been but a dream! Such things look very different in reality. Those aboriginal woods which we cannot picture to ourselves grand and splendid enough, become an intolerable nuisance when we have to live in them, and to combat their gigantesque vegetation. Every one hears and reads with pleasure of the romantic life of a hunter, who passes his nights in the open air, under the greenwood; but it is anything but romantic when the rain falls through that greenwood, and wets one to the skin. Thousands of such trifles there are, to which all, especially Europeans, must first get accustomed; but that is not done in three weeks, which was the period of time that had elapsed since the passengers of the "Hoffnung" had taken possession of their land. Was it surprising, then, that they were not yet satisfied with their life, that they could not be satisfied?
They were occupied for the moment in splitting rails to fence in a large cattle-yard, and Wolfgang had gone off into the hills, accompanied by Siebert, senior, and Herbold, (the former as treasurer, the latter as an adept in the business,) to purchase some horses and cows wherewith to commence cattle rearing. But, as this branch of rural economy is conducted very differently in the backwoods of the West, from the old settled States and Europe; as the cattle are not tied up in sheds, but roam freely about in the woods, and when wanted, have first to be sought for and got together, such a piece of business is not done in a day, and Wolfgang told the settlersbeforehand that they were not to alarm themselves, if he and his companions should stay away a week or even a fortnight, as they probably should bring the cattle with them, and as driving them would prove very tedious.
They had been gone three days, and Von Schwanthal, who, since the time when Meier met him in the woods in such a state of alarm, had pretty well abandoned his shooting, was just engaged with Pastor Hehrmann, Mr. Becher, and some of the Oldenburghers, in splitting a huge red beech, which, with combined efforts, they had felled on the previous day, when the tailor, who had been piling brush in the neighbourhood of a little thicket, suddenly came rushing towards them with good news depicted in his countenance, uttering exclamations, and making signs, while yet afar off.
The men paused in their work, looking at him as he came running towards them. He arrived at last, almost out of breath, exclaiming——
"Mr. Von Schwanthal—Mr. Von Schwanthal, get your gun; there's a whole 'herd' of turkeys over yonder!"
"Where?" the latter hastily asked, throwing down the axe, and jumping up in a great hurry. The old love of sport, which had only slumbered for a week or two, awoke in all its vigour.
"Here, close by, where we're working—where the dead cow lies that couldn't stand the climate!"
"Near the dead cow?" asked Von Schwanthal, surprised.
"Yes, it's a fact, I assure you; but make haste!" exclaimed the little tailor, himself spurred on to irrepressible excitement by the sight of the game. "You seem to think that they'll wait till you come."
Von Schwanthal ran quickly to the shanty, which was not far distant, put a couple of dozen of cartridges in his game-pouch, seized the gun, and followed Meier's active little form, which bounded over a fallen tree, lying in his way, with gazelle like agility, and then dived into the woods.
Siebert, junior, the shoemaker, brewer, and Schmidt, with some Oldenburghers and Alsatians, who also had been in the neighbourhood, drew back when they saw the game and heard the tailor's resolve to fetch the hunter; but now they made signs from a distance that the birds were still there, and exhorted the approaching men, by all kinds of telegraphic movements, to walk carefully, so as not to scare away the delicate roast.
Von Schwanthal requested his companions—for the whole company had joined the sport—for Heaven's sake to be quiet, and to remain where they where, whilst he crept forward by himself, in doing which he found the game-bag a very great incumbrance, to see if he could not get a shot right into the whole flock, (or herd, as the tailor called them,) and perhaps kill three or four at once.
As said, so done; he first laid aside the cumbersome pouch, and then crept on his knees and left arm, holding the fowling-piece in the right, over stems and roots towards the designated spot.
One circumstance was unfortunate: there was a very disagreeable odour there, for the body of the dead cow had already begun to pass into putrefaction. Von Schwanthal wondered, too, what in the world the turkeys could be about in such a noxious neighbourhood; but there was not much time left for reflection, he had to advance quickly, so that his booty might not escape; and, sure enough, actually, yonder, on and beside the dead animal, there sat about twenty hens, large, strong birds, some of which were looking carefully round, with their long necks, and others—strange!—were pecking at the carrion.
"Thou hast never read about that in any natural history!" thought Von Schwanthal, to himself. "Turkeys and carrion!—wonderful!" But he did not waste the precious time in these hasty reflections, but slid, as fast as he could go over such rough ground, towards a thick cypress, from behind which hehoped to get a capital shot at the whole flock of turkeys. And, lo! he actually succeeded to reach the wished-for position without being observed, or, at all events, without being heeded, although he made noise enough, and some of the birds must have heard him, for they separated themselves from the rest, and looked very attentively, with heads sagely inclined on one side, in the direction where he stood, hidden by the tree.
But now the favourable moment appeared to him to have arrived to make sure of his booty; without further delay, therefore, he raised the gun, levelled, and fired the charge of shot right into the midst of the flock.
The turkeys took wing—rose higher and higher—then flew in circles round and round the place from whence they had been so suddenly and so roughly scared. But one of them, which had received several grains of shot, and just retained sufficient strength to raise himself to the lower bough of a neighbouring oak, settled there, flapped his wings once or twice, and then fell down again, from his elevated perch, dead.
Von Schwanthal shook his head. The turkey fell very light for so heavy a bird. But his companions left him no time for reflection.
"Hurrah!" exclaimed Meier, as he sprang forward, and raised up one of the slain; "hurrah! now we've got a roast!—Oh, geminy! what a stench there is here!"
"But thatwasa shot!" said the brewer. "Five at once!—and such creatures! If one could get such a shot every day, I should go shooting myself."
Von Schwanthal had lifted up the one which had fallen by its naked head, and weighed it in his hand.
"Remarkably light!" said he.
"Why, that bird has the head of an eagle!" exclaimed Becher, who had now also joined them. "Why, that's a singular creature!"
"But are they turkeys, after all?" asked Siebert, junior.
"Well, what else should they be!" opined the shoemaker. "They're certainly not partridges!"
"But not turkeys, for all that," said, with a laugh, Pastor Hehrmann, who had, in the meantime, examined them more narrowly. "My dear M. Von Schwanthal, I am afraid that you have shot carrion vultures for turkeys!"
"Well, what next, I should like to know!" said the tailor; who, as he had been the first to give tongue, felt his dignity much hurt by this remark. "If those are not turkeys, you may call me 'Donkey!'"
"Then we must set about christening you afresh," smiled Hehrmann; "for these are buzzards—and probably of that kind which are called the turkey-buzzard, from their resemblance to the turkey. Don't take hold of them, M. Von Schwanthal, you won't be able to get rid of the smell!"
"Yes," declared the brewer, "they do stink—that's a fact!"
"It struck me as very strange," said Von Schwanthal, shaking his head, "directly I saw the creatures seated on the carrion. But they're strikingly like turkeys!—Good Heavens!"
As Von Schwanthal uttered this exclamation, he started back in surprise, and had, in fact, cause for wonder; for before him, with the most amiable smile upon his benevolent countenance, stood no other than Dr. Normann! he who, ever since the settlement had been in existence, had been abused and cursed a thousand times, by almost everybody, and to whom the Oldenburghers, in particular, had vowed death, if he should ever come within their clutches!—yes—whose fraud had even elicited abuse from the little tailor, who, although not in general maliciously disposed, yet had declared "that he would pass a hot goose over the fellow's skin, if he could catch him!"
This Doctor Normann now stood before the astonished settlers, bowing and smiling, as though he had the best-founded claims to the gratitude of the emigrants; and said tothose next him, with the most hearty expression of voice, whilst he held out his hand towards them—
"Well, how are you, my friends?—all well and hearty?—that's the chief thing! How d'ye do, Pastor Hehrmann?—and you, my dear M. Von Schwanthal? Ah! Mr. Meier and Mr. Schmidt—Mr. Siebert—all hearty? I am delighted—I am really delighted!"
"Sir," said Hehrmann, who had collected himself first, "it cannot be concealed from you that we are all a little surprised at seeing you here, after what has occurred!"
"You thought, perhaps, that I had run away from you!" said the Doctor, laughing. "No, no; on the contrary, you ran off from me. The boat started half an hour earlier than the captain had told me, and——"
"To what are we to attribute the honour of this visit?" asked Pastor Hehrmann, somewhat coldly.
"My dear Pastor," said Normann, advancing towards him, looking him full in the face, "I can guess the cause of your coolness—the land is not what both of us expected. But should I have returned, if I had cheated you?"
"Well, hark ye," said Schmidt, who had hitherto stood by in astonishment, "we have no fault to find with the quality of the land—that's good enough; but there's not the least shadow of all the rest of what you talked about! You must excuse me, but it was all humbug!"
"I really cannot understand you, Doctor!" Becher interrupted the last speaker, who was getting rather excited; "how you can dare——"
"What's the use of all this palaver with the fellow!" exclaimed one of the Oldenburghers. "Devil burn him! he has sent us into the wilderness here, and now he shall see how it will fare with him, since he has been fool enough to follow us!"
"Will you listen to me, or not?" cried Dr. Normann, starting back, and shoving his right hand under his waistcoat. "Will you condemn a man without having heard him?—without allowing him to defend himself!"
"What is there to defend?" exclaimed the tailor. "The evil is done, and here we are in the midst of it!"
"Will you give me ten minutes' quiet audience," asked the Doctor, "and not interrupt me?"
"Speak on!" said Hehrmann.
"Well, I'll convince you that you wrong me, if you for a moment consider me capable of deceiving you!"
"To the point, if you please!" said Becher.
"You shall not have long to wait," the Doctor continued. "On the very same day on which you quitted Cincinnati, I followed in another boat, the 'Buck-eye Belle,' and went to New Orleans. It is true, that I had intended to have got out at the Big-Halchee first, but the captain would not land expressly for a single passenger. In New Orleans, I of course immediately sought out the boat in which you came down here, and inquired after you; but learnt, to my horror, from the pilot, whom I knew very well, the true state of affairs, and what the land in this neighbourhood was. The pilot happened to have been hunting near this little river last year.
"At first, I refused to believe what he told me; but he soon adduced such convincing proofs, that I was compelled to admit to myself that I had been imposed upon, and that you would take me for a false, deceitful person. I could not bear that; at the same time, I could not conceal from myself that mere excuses were inadequate, that I mustproveto you that I am an innocent and honest man. But, again, to do this it was necessary that I should recover compensation, as far as that is possible, for the damage suffered by you; and it is on that account chiefly—and not only to clear myself of suspicion—that I am come hither."
"But how can you——"
"Allow me, in the first place, to introduce a friend of mine, Mr. Trevor."
He pointed, at the same time, behind him, and the manalluded to, whose slim form, hitherto unnoticed by anybody, was leaning against an oak, his hat pulled down rather low over his sunburnt forehead, now raised himself, and bowed politely to the people.
"Mr. Trevor speaks German," continued Dr. Normann, "and has accompanied me in order to give evidence in New York (whither both of us are bound) of the state of things here—viz., as to how far and by what means you have been cheated by that rascally land-jobber. In a month's time, I hope to be enabled to send you not only the full amount of the purchase money, but a considerable sum for damages besides!"
"Then the laws, or their administration, must be very different from all that I have heard!" replied Mr. Becher.
"Mr. Becher," exclaimed Dr. Normann, while he placed his hand on his breast, "why should I come back to you, if I had not the intention and prospect of making good the damage which I have brought upon you? What other motive could have impelled me to a place where I knew before hand that I should (with reason) be ill received?"
Pastor Hehrmann looked hard at the doctor; for a moment the thought again flashed across his mind of the declaration to his daughter, which he had accidentally overheard; but Normann, who had no idea that Hehrmann had heard a word of it, and well knew, or guessed, that Bertha would be silent on the subject of such a conversation, met the eye of the Pastor firmly, and thus (although unknown to himself) almost entirely effaced the quickly-raised and passing suspicion of the other.
"And you really suppose that you will be able to make that person answerable for the fraud?" asked Becher, still incredulous.
"I not only think so, but am sure of it," said Dr. Normann; "fortunately I have in my hands his undertaking in writing; there are witnesses enough to it in New York, and if I bringtestimony by this gentleman what the neighbourhood here really is like, no advocatecanget him off from his deserved punishment."
The emigrants, unacquainted with the administration of the law in the United States, really began to believe the words of the man who had enticed them thither, but who now defended himself with so ready a tongue—particularly as one circumstance told in his favour, viz., that some such object alone could have made his visit probable—for what possible benefit, thought they, could any further deceit be to him.
The men, therefore, became more and more friendly and confidential, and, before he had passed an hour beside them, their acquaintance seemed nearly re-established on its old footing of friendship. The honest folks could not, and would not, believe a fellow-countryman capable of such villany, for such treachery appeared impossible to their own hearts.
One thing more remained to be done; he had to be presented to the women, and their prejudices had also to be removed; Becher and Hehrmann undertook this office, and walked towards the houses with him and the strange gentleman, while Von Schwanthal with the others remained behind.
The men had mechanically withdrawn themselves from the spot where the carrion was lying, to escape from the offensive smell; but although the American could only with difficulty suppress a loud laugh when he caught sight of the slaughtered buzzards, and readily guessed how these useful creatures had met with a premature death, yet Normann, on the other hand, carefully avoided seeming so much as to notice the strange game. It was not his cue to raise the slightest cloud of vexation on the brow of any one of the people, whom he had to make friends of for the present.
Pastor Hehrmann presented the returned one to the women; honest and just himself, he was loth to believe any one else capable of such villany, and therefore gladly gave ear towhat the doctor now told him. And, although Bertha, at least, started and turned pale at the arrival of the certainly unexpected guest, yet, on the other hand, Normann's behaviour was so hearty and frank, that all willingly absolved him, and listened and gave credence to the explanation repeated by Hehrmann. Within a few hours it seemed as if nothing unfriendly had ever occurred, as if the doctor had solely and merely acted so as to be deserving of all the settlers' warmest thanks. They now only looked forward with pleasure to the return of Siebert and Herbold, in order that they, too, might be made acquainted with the good news; and Mrs. Hehrmann, for her part, declared that it was quite a relief to her that she was no longer obliged to consider Dr. Normann guilty of such a breach of friendship and good faith.
The American was also treated with attention and heartiness by the whole of the settlers, and although the so-called Pennsylvanian German, which he spoke, certainly sounded rather strange to their ears at first, and was often incomprehensible, yet they did their best to chat with him, so that he might not suffer too much ennui.
But Mr. Trevor appeared to be particularly partial to the conversation of Miss Bertha, who spoke a little English, and he gave himself every possible pains to teach her the pure accent of such words as she did not pronounce or emphasize correctly.
Dr. Normann, it is true, several times endeavoured to give him occupation elsewhere; but he always returned to the young lady, who appeared to be pleased with his attentions, because she thereby hoped to escape a tête-à-tête with Dr. Normann, of whom she had a complete dread, since the scene on the deck of the steamer.
The doctor, in the evening, tried, as far as possible, to ascertain everything which had occurred; of course, he had to inquire into particulars, in order to be able to proceedright vigorously and effectually against that cheating land-shark.[21]At the same time, he managed to get at some general acquaintance with the state of the finances; but he could only obtain the exact particulars from Siebert senior, whose return he therefore resolved to await, before taking any decided step.
On the following morning, Normann wandered with his companion backwards and forwards in the woods, under the pretence of viewing the ground, in order to convict the New York swindler, and here the following dialogue occurred between these two worthies:—
"When, the devil, do you mean to be off, Normann? What's the use of frittering away our precious time here?"
"We can't get away yet," objected the doctor; "how are we to get the girls to the river quickly enough to be safe from pursuit?"
"Don't talk such stuff," said the American, with a laugh; "which of the Dutchmen is to follow us through the woods without losing himself directly, so that he won't be able to find his own track again? No, by Jove, that matter would not give me the least uneasiness: I vote for carrying off the girl, as soon as we can entice her a rifle-shot's range from the shanties, and that, it is to be hoped, will be no difficult matter; I shall think of something that will raise her curiosity."
"She appears to please you?"
"She's a glorious girl!"
"Turner, don't forget our agreement!" said Normann, with a voice of grave exhortation, for a strange uncomfortable feeling now, for the first time, crept over him: the suspicion that perhaps his accomplice might deceive him at last.
"Why, of course, I recollect our agreement," laughed Turner; "but perhaps you're jealous? Ha, ha, ha! that's agood one! Do you suppose then that ifIhad wanted a girl, I need have taken a journey of seven hundred miles down the river for her? Nonsense! It amuses me to get through the summer in this way, for in Cincinnati there is nothing more for me."
"Had the Italian to pay his footing? Hang it, man, I shan't betray you, at all events!—and yet I've put the question ten times to you already in vain!"
"Why do you put it at all?—it must be all one to you," growled Turner, angrily; "'tis always better not to talk too much about such things. But, I don't care. Yes, I believe that he may probably remember me awhile. But the journey down stream came very opportunely; I was only afraid that the cursed sailing boat would have overtaken us. Confound the fellows! the wind blew remarkably fresh—a few hours more, and——"
"The Ohio makes too many bends," said the worthy doctor, smiling; "a sailing-boat never can overtake a steamer on it; but I really think it would be better for us to await the return of the others, who, as Pastor Hehrmann told us, are to bring horses and cattle with them. On horseback, the affair could be much more easily managed, for, after all, Turner, it would be rather too much of a good thing to carry the great girls fifteen miles through the woods."
"We can take turns."
"I thought we were to carry offboth?" said the doctor, on the watch.
Turner, who wished, at present to avoid everything which might arouse the doctor's suspicions, immediately answered this question in the affirmative, and exclaimed, laughing—"Well, of course, you are right—we will wait for the horses, unless a favourable opportunity should meanwhile occur to entice both girls towards the Mississippi, which certainly might be difficult."
"If any body should find our boat yonder?" said the doctor, "that would be a cursed go!"
"Indeed it would," said Turner, musingly; "that would be unlucky, and might be attended with yet more unlucky consequences; but I can scarcely think it likely; Scipio, you know, is beside it, and I have hid him out-and-out well. Besides, it's a German, too, they say, who lives at the mouth of the Big Halchee, and that being so, we need scarcely apprehend discovery from that quarter."
"Well, well, don't think so ill of the Germans either," said Normann, warningly; "there are some among them who are not behind a thorough backwoodsman in tracking."
"I'll tell you what, Normann," exclaimed Turner, abruptly, as he stood still, and looked at the rivulet, on whose banks they just then were; "I really believe that we can get the boat up here; then the affair would be child's play."
"Not so safe as you suppose, Turner; the Big Halchee makes innumerable windings, and if they cut them off, they can get on faster on shore than we on water."
"They must first know that we had gone by water; the Big Halchee has only risen since the day before yesterday—since the dreadful rains—and I don't think that up to that time it would have borne even a canoe. I'll tell you what, Normann, it may be a week or a fortnight before they return with the horses, and to wait till then will make the matter too tedious; besides, I haven't time to wait so long; therefore you remain here, say that I'm gone hunting, following a bear's track, if you like, and meanwhile I'll return quickly to the Mississippi. If the Halchee is navigable, why, I'll be back again by to-morrow evening, perhaps before, and then nothing more will interrupt our flight; then cunning and force must help us; if it is not navigable, why, I'll bring up the boat as far as possible, and we may still, perhaps, save ourselves some miles of our land journey."
Normann willingly agreed to this plan, for it not only facilitated the execution of this shameful piece of scoundrelism, but also removed his accomplice so long from the neighbourhood of the object of their treachery.
It required only a little further confederacy, and, after a brief farewell, Turner threw the rifle over his shoulder, and soon disappeared in the bush; while Normann returned slowly and musingly to the settlers.
The excuse for Turner's absence was readily received by them, and Von Schwanthal only lamented that he had not heard of it soon enough to accompany him. Normann, meanwhile, who, according to his own assurance, had also lived much in the woods, and consequently was acquainted with agriculture as well as the management of cattle, gave himself every conceivable pains to teach the men as well as the women a number of little contrivances, which those only who live in the woods find out by degrees.
The fever, too, had attacked several of them, although the general state of health was, on the whole, still tolerable. Normann gave them excellent instructions for this, too, and showed them several medicinal herbs growing in the woods, whose uses he taught them. He behaved himself so well, took such endless trouble, and was so civil and polite to all, that even Bertha, towards whom, alone, he observed a rather distant behaviour, began to feel herself more at ease in his society, as she could not but think that he was cured of his love for her, and only wished to do everything in his power to render those inconveniences into which the settlers had been plunged, unfortunately, by his means, as light as possible.
He was particularly friendly and attentive to Louisa, Bertha's sister, and her junior by a few years, and two days thus passed with surprising rapidity.
On the second evening after the conversation last detailed, the greater part of the settlers were seated close together before the principal dwelling, which, situated in the midst of several smaller dwelling-places, and subdivided by partitions, had to serve as a sleeping-place for most of them until they should have furnished the remaining houses. Several small fires, lighted in a circle, and fed with decayed wood, gaveout a thick smoke, and served to keep off the otherwise too troublesome mosquitoes, and the doctor had just concluded a highly interesting story about the catching of wild horses on the western prairies, when the bushes rustled, and the American stepped towards them. He was heavily laden, and laid down the young stag which he bore on his shoulders, at Bertha's feet, but declared that he had not been able to overtake the bear whose tracks he had followed.
Normann watched his looks, to guess whether the attempt had been successful or not, but the American was too wily to expose himself to the possibility of a discovery, if any one of the persons present should notice any sign, and therefore remained quite unconscious, answered Von Schwanthal's questions in the most circumstantial manner, related a number of hunting anecdotes, laughed and joked, and altogether did as though there were no such person as Dr. Normann in existence.
It was not until they retired together to their sleeping-places, that he whispered lowly to the latter—
"The boat lies scarcely five hundred yards from hence, safely hid; and to-morrow they must be ours."
FOOTNOTE:[21]Those persons, in the sea-port towns, who make it their business to sell fraudulently bad land to the newly arrived, are usually styled land-sharks.
[21]Those persons, in the sea-port towns, who make it their business to sell fraudulently bad land to the newly arrived, are usually styled land-sharks.
[21]Those persons, in the sea-port towns, who make it their business to sell fraudulently bad land to the newly arrived, are usually styled land-sharks.
Wolfgang, Herbold, and the elder Siebert, had gone off to the hills, in order to purchase from a farmer there, whom Wolfgang knew, such horses and cattle as they stood in need of for the moment, and which, if they should sell or leave that place within a short period, might either be driven on board of a steamer and so sent to the nearest town, or even be taken with them to their new place of abode.
Their journey had been anything but agreeable, for on the very first day it began to rain, and, during seventeen successive hours, it had never ceased from pouring. The swampy ground, damp at all times, became almost impassable, and besides they were frightened by tempests, which passed over their heads, with bright flashes of lightning, and loud peals of thunder, and that in such rapid succession, that the sound of one peal had not died away, before another already rendered them uneasy about their safety.
Siebert was especially frightened, and although, at first, he endeavoured to conceal it, as well as he could, yet, in the course of the day, he was unable to keep up this disguise, for the thunder and lightning seemed to have no end; he therefore candidly acknowledged his fears, and affirmed that it must be a presentiment that he should be struck by lightning.
Wolfgang laughed. "No, my dear Mr. Siebert, do notmake yourself uneasy; the old belief, that lightning prefers to strike trees, and other high objects, is certainly well founded, and with us in the woods, here, it always lights upon a tree; indeed, I should like to know where else it is to go to; it would be quite a feat for it to pass into the earth, without striking one of them. No, I have heard of a good number of accidents, by falling trees or branches, under which men have been buried, or at least crippled, and cattle, more particularly, are often thus destroyed, but I have never yet heard of a man having been struck by lightning, at least, not in the woods. In the hills, there are a kind of natural lightning conductors, I mean the hickories or white walnut trees, although the inconstant fluid not unfrequently has its joke with some old oak. But it prefers the former tree, and I have found them split down to the very roots. But if I am not mistaken, we are approaching the hills, the rushes become thinner, and the soil is getting undulating. Now we have the prospect of surprising my friend at home this evening, and there we may rest ourselves for a day, to make up for our exertions."
Wolfgang had concluded correctly; the last slope of the hills stretched to where they stood, and thenceforward their road became better, as they forsook the swampy hollows, and remained at the border of the higher land.
The farm of Stevenson (the name of Wolfgang's friend) lay, according to his calculation, about five miles further off; but it was not until nearly evening that they reached the fence, and with it the boundary of a well-cultivated field of Indian corn, more than ten acres in extent, before which Herbold stood still, quite surprised and delighted.
Wolfgang, however, did not leave him much time to look about him, but hurried his companions on towards the house, so as to enable them to dry themselves, and to get something warm, for he feared that the other two, not yet inured to the climate, might not escape with a mere cold, but perhaps get the fever or ague.
Stevenson received them hospitably and heartily; his daughters set about making some good, strong, warm coffee for them directly, while his wife got out everything in the shape of clothes, either old or new, and ere long, the wet and hungry wanderers were seated, dry and refreshed, before a warm fire, so that even Herbold confessed that he had not felt more comfortable for many a year past.
Indeed, Stevenson's family seemed to be a pattern of American domestic life;—the interior of the house, simple, it is true, and even poor, was as bright and clean as one could have wished it; the utensils shone and glittered again, and the mother with her two grown-up daughters, clad in the homespun grey of the western forests, looked like the ideal of a worthy matron, surrounded and supported by youth and beauty. The strangers soon felt happy in their neighbourhood, and it only required a few words of encouragement to make them move about with as much freedom and ease as though they were at home in their own houses.
The storm which had so vexed them, and wetted them to the skin, like all other things in this world, had its bright side, too, for it had driven in the cattle towards the protecting dwellings of man, instead of wandering about the woods in all directions, as they otherwise would have been. Cows and horses stood in peaceful agreement, side by side, and licked the salt which a little fair-haired boy strewed for them, upon troughs hollowed out and fixed for the purpose, with an eagerness and enjoyment which told distinctly enough how long they had been deprived of it, and how fond they were of it. A small flock of sheep, with their leader, a stately ram, also approached, but the protector of the cows, a stout, broad-shouldered bull, did not seem particularly to relish his company, and lowered his sinewy neck towards him, and pawed the ground threateningly with his foot. The ram, on the other hand, who did not like to be looked upon as a coward before all his dames, and to forfeit the respect which he considered his due, also assumed a hostile attitude, bentdown his head, and ran full tilt, carrying the war into the enemy's territory, at his hundred-fold superior adversary, so that the latter was quite taken aback, and merely awaited the attack with horns pointed down.
But the ram was too wide awake to let himself into a quarrel where he undoubtedly must come off second best, and therefore, when he found himself close before the bull, he turned suddenly off to the right, bringing a couple of cows between himself and his antagonist, called his own little flock together by a peculiar bleat, and in the next moment was on his way to the woods with it; so that the deluded bull, when at last, he threw up his powerful head in defiance, to see what had become of the threatened attack, saw no enemy in his vicinity, and could only express his contempt by a loud, hollow bellow, and by a little sand which he scraped up and threw in the eyes of a couple of cows.
Herbold had looked on at the whole game with much pleasure, and now turned to his friendly host with the question, whether sheep were advantageous and profitable stock in the backwoods.
"No," said he, "at least I have not found them so. The stock, of course, like the rest of our cattle, have to run about wild in the woods, and although the wolves rarely venture on a young calf, yet they persecute the sheep considerably; it is, therefore, only possible to preserve a flock if one has a good ram beside it."
"And do you really think that a ram can bid defiance to the wolves?" asked Herbold, surprised.
"Yes; I not only think so, but am certain of it," replied Stevenson; "they place themselves in a posture of defence, go round and round the flock, and constantly threaten the wolf with their attack, of which he is particularly afraid."
"But when several wolves are together, as no doubt is often the case?"
"The wolf is very cowardly," continued the old farmer; "he seldom ventures on an open attack, and is fearfulof resistance. I am firmly convinced that a single sheep could drive away the large black wolf of the woods—to say nothing of the little, grey, prairie wolves—if it would advance resolutely upon him, and make a feigned attack or two. But, as sheep, after all, are but sheep, why, this is not often attempted; they try to fly, and Mr. Wolf seizes them by the collar. But that is not the only thing which interferes with the raising of sheep, there are other circumstances with which we have to contend. In consequence of their running about in the woods unrestrained, their wool gets full of burrs, and it would be still worse were we to keep them in fields or fenced places, where the burrs are yet more abundant; it is therefore out of the question, to wash the sheep before shearing them. That is the reason why, although there is pasture in abundance, we keep comparatively few sheep, and even those few, we should do away with, if our wives were not obliged to use a little wool, to weave and to spin clothes for themselves and us."
"Strange that wolves persecute sheep so everywhere!" said Herbold, with a sagacious shake of the head; "they are natural enemies, no doubt, and the sheep must be aware of it, and dread their worriers."
"Don't suppose that," observed Stevenson; "strange to say, the thing is originally quite the reverse. I have experienced it several times myself. When I have removed to an unsettled district, which, be it said in passing, has been several times the case, I have not lost a single sheep during the first few months, sometimes even during the whole first year, and that surprised me the more as I found everywhere in the neighbourhood frequent tracks of wolves. At a subsequent period, I was once accidentally witness to the cause of their being so strangely spared, and which had already been mentioned to me by various neighbours. I was standing on the look out for an old buck that had passed that way, and from the spot where I had hid myself, could overlook a little plain below me, where my flock, then consisting of but sevenewes and a ram, was pasturing. Suddenly a wolf broke out from a neighbouring thicket, and was about to pass across the open space. But he certainly must have fallen in with the sheep for the first time then, and they must have appeared very strange to him, for just as I thought that he would select one for his breakfast, and was on that account about to step forward to hinder him, he halted, scented them, advanced timidly a step nearer, and suddenly, when one of the ewes turned round towards him, fled, with rapid bounds, into the cover of the thicket. He was afraid of the creatures which were as yet unknown to him, and it was only in the course of time, perhaps when driven by pinching hunger, that these wolves tasted the first mutton. Thenceforth, it is true, there was an end to safety; the ravenous beasts of prey soon learned how timid and inoffensive that alarming-looking animal was, and how sweet its flesh, and from that time forward did much havoc among the peaceable woolcoats."
"But, as the wolf liked the taste of the flesh," said Herbold, "so also might you rear them yourselves, for the sake of the meat."
"We don't like it much," Stevenson replied; "the fare of the backwoodsman is Johnny cake, or Indian corn bread, and pork, and on that he lives and thrives. We but rarely slaughter a bullock and cure the meat, for the sake of a change; for it is dry eating, and deer and turkeys generally serve the turn."
"Is there much game here?"
"Pretty well. He who knows where to seek for it can always find something, and need not come home empty handed, for if there are no deer to be had, he can get squirrels."
"Squirrels?" asked Herbold, in astonishment.
"Yes, yes, squirrels," said the farmer, smiling; "when you've been awhile in the country, you'll come to relish squirrels too; they are very good eating, especially the grey ones."
"But what do you shoot the squirrels with? I see nothing but rifles here."
"Well, what else should we shoot them with?" asked the other, surprised in his turn; "not with those smooth-bored shot guns, that shoot away a handful of lead into the air, besides spoiling flesh and fur? No, indeed. We have small bored rifles on purpose for such small game, and with those we can fetch down the agile leapers from out of the loftiest tree tops, where indeed your shot guns would not carry the charge at all."
"Do your cattle come home regularly, then?"
"Oh no; sometimes a single herd will remain away for months, and pasture ten or twelve miles from home beside other watercourses, and then we have to go after them, seek them out, and salt them."
"Salt them?" exclaimed the German, astonished.
"You are surprised at that," said Stevenson, with a smile; "but of course you are not yet acquainted with the management of cattle in the woods of the West. Well, I can give you at least some idea of it in a few words.
"Our chief wealth, if a poor devil like myself may be permitted to talk of wealth, consists in cattle—viz., horned cattle, horses, and hogs, for as to the sheep they are a mere trifle. But how is it possible that a man should keep large flocks and herds, who perhaps scarcely grows more corn than suffices to keep his own family in bread? Stall feeding is, therefore, out of the question, if, indeed, we had sheds. The woods, on the other hand, are full of the most valuable cattle food; in spring and summer, the beautiful grass—in the fall, the pea-vine and wild oats—in winter, the sweet leaves of the reeds in the reed brakes. It would be folly, with such abundance of food, to think of growing corn for cattle, for the hogs also have more in the shape of roots and acorns than they can get through. We, therefore, rear as much live stock as we can, and trust to Providence to feed it.
"But to prevent them from straying, we have a means which hardly ever fails of attaching them to the spot where they get it. I refer to salt. Horses, cows, and hogs, are all alikepassionately fond of it, and to strew salt at certain periods on fixed places is almost sure to bring them back to those spots."
"Don't single heads of cattle sometimes stray?"
"Oh, certainly; sometimes small herds do so, and become wild, but that can't be helped; others grow up in their stead, and the loss is made up again."
"Wild animals destroy many, too; do they not?"
"Many!—no. The bear sometimes makes havoc among the hogs, but his hide must generally pay the damage; and if the panther occasionally tears to pieces a calf or a foal, yet after all it does not amount to much; others grow up."
"According to our notions of cattle breeding it would signify a good deal if a panther should destroy a calf or a foal," said Herbold, with a laugh, "but I perceive the thing is carried on upon a larger scale here. You have many cattle?"
"Pretty well," replied the farmer, "about two hundred head in all, counting cows and calves as one. But I am thinking of going westward, and want to sell them."
"What, forsake your farm!" exclaimed the German, astonished. "Why? Is the land not good, or is the neighbourhood unhealthy?"
"Oh, not for that; the land is capital, and we have no cause to complain much of sickness; a little ague, now and then; but that arises from the neighbourhood of the swamps, and it doesn't last long."
"But why do you wish to remove, then?"
"Well, I don't exactly know, but as I have heard the land hereabouts is to be surveyed——"
"And that is your reason? I should have thought that would have been acceptable to you."
"As you like to take it, pleasant or unpleasant; pleasant because one then gets to know whereabout to look for one's own land, and where one may, here and there, have the chance of buying good pieces to add to it; but unpleasant because I should have to pay for it now, and for the same money I could get just as good land further to the west, and muchmore of it, and perhaps also better cattle. Here I get at present a pretty good price for all that I have, and if a couple of years were only over one's head, and the settlements in this neighbourhood so thick as to impede a man in his free movements"——
"Good gracious!" Herbold interrupted him; "why, you haven't a single neighbour within nine miles' distance, as you yourself just now admitted."
"Yet the time is not so very distant," continued Stevenson, without noticing the objection, "when we may have towns upon towns along the margin of the swamp, and I had rather go out of the way of the people; the air of towns doesn't agree with me."
"Well, Heaven be praised!" said the other, laughing, "you haven't much to complain of on that score; the nearest town, as Wolfgang told me, is ten miles distant, and consists of five houses."
"And I shouldn't like any nearer," said the farmer.
"There is another thing which I wished to ask you; how, in the name of wonder, do you manage with the milch kine? You must place them at all events under shelter, and feed them, otherwise you can get no milk."
"We can manage that much more simply," was the reply; "we drive home the calves when we find them in the woods, and the cows, of course, come with them. The cow is milked at the homestead, and afterwards driven out of the clearing. During the first night she does not like to go away, but she is driven by hunger to go at last, seeks her food, and comes home regularly to be milked, and to see her calf."
"Certainly that is a convenient mode of keeping milking cows; and the calf remains all day long in a shed?"
"Shed! we don't know such a word here. Whoever may happen to have a stallion may perhaps keep him in a log-house built on purpose, differing in nowise from our own ordinary dwellings, except that it has no boarded floor, nor chimney, but otherwise we don't require those kind of buildings."
"Well, thus much I can see," Herbold now expressed his opinion; "there is no great art in raising cattle here; one has only to drive them out, and scarcely trouble oneself further about them."
"There," said Wolfgang, who had now joined them, and had heard the last remark, "you fall into an error common with emigrants from Europe. They go from one extreme to the other, and believe that, because in their own country they have so much trouble with stall feeding, and are obliged to conduct everything with so much care, therefore that here they have nothing further to do, for instance, than to drive out a breeding sow into the woods, in order to have a drove of some hundred hogs arrive some three or four years after. No, no; one must not neglect cattle here either, but must look after it, else they get wild, and become worse than deer or rabbits."
"I don't know what Wolfgang means by extremes, or what extremes are, but in other respects he has hit it exactly. One has to drive about in the woods for many a long day to get the creatures together, and when that is done they never will remain where they are wanted. But you were saying that you wanted to buy some cows and horses; if you do, you couldn't have pitched upon a better time than just the present; my best cows are here, and there is not one of the horses missing."
"Certainly, we wish to buy both cattle and horses," said Siebert, who now also joined in the conversation; "that was just the cause of our coming hither; but in making our bargain we must rely implicitly upon Mr. Wolfgang and yourself, for——"
"Mr. Wolfgang understands the thing thoroughly," the old American interrupted him, laughing; "we have transacted many a piece of business together. He and his wife—by-the-bye, Wolfgang, how is your wife? she suffered much from the fever lately."
"It is well with her," said the young man, turning half aside; "she is dead."
"Dead! dear me! and we never heard a word of it, so that we might——"
"Don't press the subject," said the young man, deprecatingly; "the distance between this and the river is great, how could you hear of it? Besides, these worthy people helped me kindly with the burial. But," he continued, while he passed his hands lightly across his eyes, "I think it is better for me, and for all of us, if we let alone the melancholy past. We have business to attend to, and activity is the best preservative against sorrow."
"But your wife——" said Stevenson.
"Was an angel," Wolfgang interrupted him, in a low voice, "and I shall never, never forget her, so long as this poor heart beats; still, do me the favour not to wake the old sorrow. I have, Heaven knows! suffered enough already.—When are you going to clear out, Stevenson?"
The old man reached him his hand in silence, grasped heartily that which was offered him, and then changed his tone, in order not to sadden his friend yet more.
"It will be next year first," said he, as he drew one of his large mastiffs towards him, and patted his head; "there are always on those occasions so many things to look after, that one hardly knows where to begin or when one has done, and as I have got to cross the Mississippi, why I intend to take my time, and to get done with it all at once. To go back such a distance for something forgotten would be too tedious. How many cattle will you have—a hundred perhaps? The more you can get at first, the more advantageous for you, for the more rapidly and the more numerously does it increase, and it costs you little or nothing."
"That is very true," Wolfgang now took up the discourse; "if one is minded to stay in the place, or at all events in the neighbourhood where one is; but I would by no means advise the gentlemen to do that. The soil is good, but the location is unhealthy, and it will be fortunate for them if they canstand it during the summer; next fall they must seek out a healthier climate, and much cattle would only be an incumbrance to them. Where do you go to?"
"Into the Ozark Hills; but why will you not at once quit this part of the country, if you are already firmly convinced that you will not remain here long? I should go at once, for time here is money. Calculate merely the produce in cattle that you would gain by it."
"You are right," Siebert now said; "but where are we to find a neighbourhood directly that would suit us, particularly as we are unacquainted with the country; and then a removal with such a number of people is easier spoken of than executed."
"And how we have worked at our place already!" suggested Herbold; "how many trees have we felled!"
"Well, well, that would be the least part of the business," smiled Stevenson; "there can't be so very many in three weeks; besides, all that is not lost, it has been useful to you for practice, and cannot prove otherwise than beneficial hereafter. But I quite agree with Mr. Wolfgang. If you are not unanimous among yourselves whether to stay or go, as it almost seems to me is the case, why then only take some four or five milch kine and calves, so that you may have milk for the children and the sick, at all events three or four horses besides, and no hogs, they would only be a plague to you, and let that suffice for your beginning in cattle management."
Siebert and Herbold fully agreed with this, and with the assistance of Wolfgang and Stevenson selected such of the cows as appeared the best; then chose three horses, small but sturdy ponies, such as are serviceable in the woods, and, on the fourth morning after their departure from home, they had concluded everything with such good fortune, and so much more quickly than they had expected, that they were ready to think about their march back. But they first strolled, with old Stevenson, through all his fields and improvements,and Herbold especially was much astonished at a style of farming of which he had, up to that time, had no conception.
The Indian corn field claimed his chief attention, for although the emigrants, on their journey by canal through Ohio, had already seen fields with rail fences, yet that had always been in the more settled districts, and the fields really looked like fields. But here everything was more in its primeval state, and although the fences had been put up durably and well, yet in the interior there stood almost as many stumps and large girdled trees as there were stalks of corn. It remained an inexplicable riddle to Herbold how any human being could plough among those stumps and roots, for such a field, containing, at least, ten German morgens, or about twenty English acres, could not be tilled with the spade; yet the furrows seemed regular and straight. The plough unquestionably had done it, and Stevenson showed them one without wheels,[22]so as to allow the ploughman to draw it out before every root, to lift it out of the way of stumps of trees, and by pressing or easing it let it go shallower or deeper.
The old American explained to them the culture of the Indian corn, which was very simple, and conducted them between the rows of stalks, frequently from ten to twelve feet high, and which, with their heavy cobs, and drooping, dry, silky little bushes, or flags, presented a stately, and to the eye of the husbandman, most grateful appearance.
The stalks stood, as is customary, upon little mounds or hillocks, quite four feet apart, so as to leave full play for the leaves, and pumpkins or water melons had been sown between them, and throve amazingly, especially the former, which, in some instances, had reached an extraordinary size.
"What, in the name of Heaven, do you do with all these pumpkins?" asked Mr. Siebert, in astonishment, "why, there are actually enough to victual a whole colony."
"Pumpkins," said Stevenson, "are, properly speaking, one of the most useful things which a farmer can sow; horses and cows eat them eagerly, hogs will let themselves be beaten to death for them, and they are one of the most healthy and nourishing articles of food for mankind which we possess here in Tennessee, or indeed throughout the whole west of America.
"For mankind, too?"
"Yes, certainly; but by the time that you have got your fields cleared you will have learnt that yourselves. Pumpkins, boiled down fresh, make a capital preserve, of course not so delicate as plums or peaches, and when dried they yield an excellent winter vegetable, which I, at least, prefer to any other."
"And do they only grow Indian corn in this neighbourhood—no cotton, no tobacco?" asked Mr. Siebert; "the climate is assuredly mild enough."
"Mild enough, certainly. In the states lying north of this, immense quantities of tobacco, and even of cotton, are raised, and consequently, those plants would thrive still better in this more southern Tennessee; but, for the culture of cotton, as well as of tobacco, a great number of hands are required, and black hands if possible; slaves, on the one hand, to get in the harvest—that is, pluck the cotton itself—on the other, to attend to the picking of the small tobacco worm. A farmer who is restricted to his own family cannot attempt to raise those sorts of things, or at least can raise sufficient only for his own use. Else it is sure to be a failure, if the crop is not a total loss."
"But how is it with cereals?"
"Why, those might be more practicable, and here and there they are cultivated with extraordinary success, but Indian corn is better for cattle food,[23]and we always preferit. Another inconvenience of these smaller grains is the bread; we have no suitable mills for it, and on that account alone must content ourselves with Indian corn. In the eastern and northern states, it is of course somewhat different; there they grow wheat and oats, and I am firmly convinced that in the whole course of your journey through New York and Ohio, or Pennsylvania States, whichever way you may have come, you did not get any Indian corn bread, or set eyes upon it."
Siebert and Herbold confirmed this; but Wolfgang had meanwhile busily occupied himself in tapping with his bent forefinger against several of the largest and ripest watermelons, to seek out the best of them for eating, as they could not remain much longer, but must return to their settlement.
All three accordingly followed his example, and now sought, heavily laden, the shadow of the house, there to enjoy the melons at their leisure.
Mrs. Stevenson had meanwhile prepared an ample and excellent dinner, such a one as is only to be met with in the woods, so that the fresh comers, who besides had not been much used to dainties latterly, acknowledged with animation that they had not made such a meal for a long time.
Game, turkey, and fat pork formed the "pièces de resistance," the heavy artillery as it were, and preserved pumpkin, beans, sweet potatoes, honey, and milk the by-meats. All was prepared simply but well, and the men did justice to it. But after the meal, Wolfgang again urged their departure, and although Herbold (who began to like the place very much) would have willingly passed at least that day there, yet he gave way to the wish of their conductor. Mounting the horses, therefore, which they had bargained for, they bade a hearty farewell to the family of the worthy old Stevenson, and commenced their homeward journey, driving the cows and calves before them. Stevenson also promised shortly to look them up in their new settlement, perhapswithin that very week, to make the acquaintance of his new neighbours, as he called them.
But, although they were now mounted, they scarcely advanced more quickly than they had done before on foot, for to drive cows through the woods is a task which, as the Americans say, teaches even methodists to swear, and which certainly offers many difficulties to the tyro. Besides this, Mr. Siebert knew little or nothing about riding, and had trouble enough to keep his seat, owing to the many leaps which the horse was obliged to make over prostrate stems of trees or swampy spots. He had, therefore, to keep in the centre, while Wolfgang and Herbold rode on either wing, in order, not only to make the cattle move on by shouting and swinging their hats, but also to drive back, from thicket and swamp, into the prescribed track, the stragglers, which were constantly straying.
We will not stop to inquire how often, while thus engaged, Siebert and Herbold were dragged from their horses by dangling creeping plants and vines, or lost their seats by sudden shying, or stumbling, or leaping of their beasts, and kissed the earth any way but gently. They progressed very slowly with their charge, and it was near sunset of the second day before they reached the neighbourhood of the settlement, and heard the strokes of the workmen's axes at regular intervals.
* * * * * *
But it is high time that we should return to the settlement once more, where those two villains were steadily progressing towards the execution of their criminal plan. But as Normann wished to await the return of Siebert, senior, he and Turner assisted the emigrants with their work, partly to pass the time, but partly, also, in order to restore their former friendly footing more and more. The settlers had thus just concluded two new fenced inclosures, whereinthe expected horses and cows were to be kept, for they could not yet make up their minds that the cattle should be allowed to run at liberty in the woods all the winter.
Even Hehrmann, who, as he could not forget the last scene on board the steamer, had carefully observed Normann the first day or two, appeared to allow his suspicions to be lulled, when he noted his open and candid behaviour. One could plainly see in every one of the doctor's movements how much afflicted he was that he should have been the cause of a company of Germans—of people who were his friends—being cheated and defrauded, and how he now strained every nerve to repair, as far as lay in his power, the evil, although it had not been caused by his own act. He had, on that very day even, assured Hehrmann and Becher, that not only did he not entertain the slightest doubt, but that, indeed, he was firmly convinced, that the rascally land-jobber could be successfully brought to account.
The settlers had succeeded, with the assistance of the doctor and the American, in laying "the worm," as the lower row of rails laid in zig-zag is called, and to erect the whole fence faultlessly, so that Mr. Becher, when he surveyed the successful work with self-satisfied look, observed, smilingly, that now the drovers might arrive as soon as they pleased with their beasts, and that Wolfgang would stare to see such a workmanlike performance, as he had before hazarded an opinion that probably he should have to pull the fence down again, if it were not firm enough.
"Wolfgang!" said Dr. Normann, who now heard his name for the first time, inasmuch as hitherto, when the absent had been spoken of, only Siebert and Herbold had been named. "Wolfgang!—the name sounds quite German; does that gentleman belong to your association?"
"He is a German settler," Becher answered, "to whom the cordwood beside the Mississippi belongs, which you probably noticed piled up."
"Has he also lately come over from Germany?" askedNormann, and that with more interest than might have been expected about a stranger.
"No, he formerly lived in Arkansas," was the answer, "and probably has been some years here in Tennessee."
"A singular case," said Trevor (or Turner) in the Pennsylvanian dialect—"a very singular case, that a Backwoodsman should clear out eastward; an American never would have done that."
Normann was silent, and cast his eyes on the ground; but an attentive observer might have noticed that within a few minutes he had changed countenance very much, and was actually quite pale. The settlers, however, were too much taken up with their new fence, to heed him, and it was only when Normann, after exchanging some words with Turner in a low tone, was preparing to leave for the houses, that Hehrmann noticed the change in his features, and exclaimed jocularly—
"There you see, Doctor, you have over-exerted yourself; this kind of work affects persons who are not accustomed to it, over much; you look deadly pale."
The doctor explained it away, by attributing it to a headache, but affirmed that a short walk would do him good, and, taking Turner's arm, he walked with him towards the houses which were near at hand.
"We must go," he exclaimed, as soon as they had got out of ear-shot of the labourers—"we must be off; we have not a moment to spare, for any instant may bring back those men."
"What men?" asked the American, surprised.
"Those who are gone to fetch the cattle and horses," said Normann, looking suspiciously round.
"Well, who the devil is to understand you? first, you plague and insist upon waiting until this Liebert, or Siebert, as he is called, shall come back, and talk of nothing but riding off, so as to get away more conveniently, and now it almost seems as though you were afraid of the arrival of those whom you were so eagerly waiting for. What ails you?"
"You shall learn all," replied the doctor—"I have no need to keep back a secret of that description fromyou, for a tenth part of what I know of you, would sentence you to the gallows in any Christian country. But now is not the time for story-telling—on the road—this evening—to-morrow morning—any time but now; let us, for the present, manage to persuade the girls to take a walk. But this much I can tell you, I havewell-founded reasonsfor avoiding the sight of this Wolfgang. When I relate all to you, by-and-by, this evening, you will allow that I have good grounds. Shall we be off?"
"Why certainly," said Turner, laughing, "you are the principal character in this business; I have only come with you to oblige you, so that it is only proper that I should not leave you in the lurch when danger threatens you. Away, then, within the next hour if you like—indeed, the sooner the more agreeable to me, although I should have liked to have waited till dusk, because it could be accomplished then with less danger. Well, perhaps we may talk the girls over to accompany us, while it is yet light, as far as where the nigger with the boat lies hid, but then we must certainly gag them until we get to the Mississippi, otherwise their cries might attract some uncalled-for audience, and as no one goes into the woods here without a rifle, perhaps even bring a ball about our ears."
"And our place of concealment?"
"We shall reach it this very evening," replied Turner; "it is a famous little spot, and you will be delighted with it."
"But you have never told me yet where it is," said the doctor suspiciously; "why all this secrecy?"
"You'll know it soon enough. But what is to be done with the girls afterwards?"
"Oh, let us drop all further plans for the present," said Normann, "we have plenty of time for that when we have nothing else to do; now for the smooth side outwards. In fact, I think we have won the confidence of the young ladiesto such a degree that they will go with us without much difficulty, if we ask them to accompany us for a walk."
"No fear; I know a capital lie, which seldom fails to raise the curiosity of a young lady of sensibility."
"And that is——"
"Hallo, there," said the American, jocularly, "does it produce its effect upon you? Well, as far as that goes, also, you must allow me to keep my own counsel. What will you bet, now, that it does not succeed?"
"It would be against my own interest to bet against it," smiled the doctor, "inasmuch as I am interested in its success; so let us to work, for the ground begins to burn under my feet, and may next hour find us in possession of two angels that might well excite a sultan's envy!"