II. Home-founding
I
ON THE side of a hill, which sloped gently away toward the southeast and followed with many windings a creek that wormed its way across the prairie, stood Hans Olsa, laying turf. He was building a sod house. The walls had now risen breast-high; in its half-finished condition, the structure resembled more a bulwark against some enemy than anything intended to be a human habitation. And the great heaps of cut sod, piled up in each corner, might well have been the stores of ammunition for defence of the stronghold.
For a man of his strength and massive build, his motions were unusually quick and agile; but he worked by fits and starts to-day. At times he stopped altogether; in these pauses he would straighten himself up and draw his sleeve with a quick stroke across his troubled face; with each stroke the sleeve would come away damper; and standing so, he would fix his gaze intently on the prairie to the eastward. His eyes had wandered so often now over the stretch of land lying before them, that they were familiar with every tussock and hollow.... No—nothing in sight yet!... He would resume his task, as if to make up for lost time, and work hard for a spell; only to forget himself once more, pause involuntarily, and stand inert and abstracted, gazing off into the distance.
Beyond the house a tent had been pitched; a wagon was drawn up close beside it. On the ground outside of the tent stood a stove, a couple of chairs, and a few other rough articles of furniture. A stout, healthy-looking woman, whose face radiated an air of simple wisdom and kindliness, was busy preparing the midday meal. She sang to herself as she worked. A ten-year-old girl, addressed by the woman as Sofie, was helping her. Now and then the girl would take up the tune and join in the singing.
Less than a quarter of a mile away, in a southeasterly direction, a finished sod house rose on the slope of the hill. Smoke was winding up from it at this moment. This house, which had been built the previous fall, belonged to Syvert Tönseten.
Some distance north from the place where Hans Olsa had located, two other sod houses were under construction; but a hillock lay between, so that he could not see them from where he stood. There the two Solum boys had driven down their stakes and had begun building. Tönseten’s completed house, and the other three half-finished ones, marked the beginning of the settlement on Spring Creek.
The woman who had been bustling about preparing the meal, now called to her husband that dinner was ready—he must come at once! He answered her, straightened up for the hundredth time, wiped his hands on his trousers, and stood for a moment gazing off eastward.... No use to look—not a soul in sight yet!... He sighed heavily, and walked with slow steps toward the tent, his eyes on the ground.
It was light and airy inside the tent, but stifling hot, because of the unobstructed sunlight beating down upon it. Two beds were ranged along the wall, both of them homemade; a big emigrant chest stood at the head of each. Nails had been driven into the centre pole of the tent, on which hung clothing; higher up a crosspiece, securely fastened, was likewise hung with clothes. Two of the walls were lined with furniture; on these pieces the dishes were displayed, all neatly arranged.
A large basin of water stood on a chair just inside the tent door. Hans Olsa washed his face and hands; then he came out and sat down on the ground, where his wife had spread the table. It was so much cooler outside. The meal was all ready; both mother and daughter had been waiting for him.
“I suppose you haven’t seen any signs of them yet?” his wife asked at last.
“No—nothing at all!”
“Can you imagine what has become of them?”
“The Lord forgive us—if I only knew!”
Her husband looked so anxious that she asked no more questions. Out of her kind heart rose a hopeful, “Don’t worry, they’ll get here all right!” ... But in spite of the cheerfulness of the words, she could not give them that ring of buoyant confidence which she would have liked to show.
... “Of course!” said the girl with a laugh. “Store-Hans and Ola have two good pairs of eyes. Leave it to them—they’ll find us!”
The father gave her a stern glance; he didn’t tell her in words to stop her foolish chatter—but she said no more. Without speaking once, he ate his dinner. As soon as he had finished, he tossed his spoon on the blanket, thanked them for the food, got up gloomily, and went back to the hal-fcompleted wall. There he sat down awhile, as if lost in thought ... gazing eastward. His large, rugged features were drawn and furrowed with anxiety.... “God Almighty!” he sighed, and folded his big hands. “What can have become of Per Hansa?”
His wife was watching him closely as he sat there on the wall. By and by she told her daughter to finish washing the dishes, and started to go over where he was. When he saw her coming, he tried to begin working as if there were nothing on his mind.
“Hans,” she said, quickly, when she had reached his side, “I think you ought to go out and look for them!”
He waited until he had got a strip of sod in place before he answered: “Easier said than done ... when we haven’t the faintest idea where to look ... on such stretches of prairie!”
“Yes, I know; but it would make us all feel better, anyway ... as if we were doing something.”
Hans Olsa laid another strip of turf; then he stopped, let his hands fall to his sides, and began thinking aloud as he gazed off into the distance....
“I know this much—you don’t often find a smarter fellow than Per Hansa.... That’s what makes it so queer! I don’t suppose he’s able to get much speed out of his oxen; but one thing I’m certain of—he has been hurrying as fast as he could. And we surely didn’t come along very fast ... but now it’s the fifth day since we arrived here! If he made use of these bright moonlight nights, as he probably did, I begin to be afraid that he’s gone on west of us somewhere, instead of being still to the eastward.... It’s certainly no child’s play to start looking for him!”
Hans Olsa slumped down on the wall, the picture of dejection. His wife quickly found a place beside him. Together they sat there in silence. The same fear that she felt him struggling with, a fear thrown into sharp relief by the things he had just been saying, had long since gripped her heart also.
“I feel so sorry for Beret, poor thing ... and the children. You must remember, though, that he couldn’t go very fast on account of her condition.... I think she is with child again!” She paused. “I dreamed about them last night ... a bad dream....”
Her husband glanced sidewise at her. “We mustn’t pay attention to such things. A bad dream is a good sign, anyway—that’s what my mother always said.... But I suppose I’ll never forgive myself for not waiting for him.” He got up heavily and laid another strip of turf. “He’s always been like that, Per Hansa; he never would take help from any man. But this time he’s carried it a little too far!”
His wife made no answer. She was watching a short stout man with a reddish beard who had started up the slope from the direction of the house to the south of them. He had cheeks like two rosy apples, a quick step, and eyes that flitted all about; he was noted among them for his glib tongue and the flood of his conversation. With hands stuck into the waistband of his trousers, and elbows out akimbo, the man looked half as broad again as he really was.
“Here comes Tönseten,” said the woman. “Why don’t you talk it over with him? I really think you ought to go out and look for them.”
“Seen anything of them yet, Hans Olsa?” asked the man, without further greeting, as soon as he arrived.... “Well, well! this looks fine! Ha, ha! It’s a warm house, you know, that’s built by the aid of a woman’s hand.”
Hans Olsa wheeled on him. “You haven’t caught sight of them yourself, Syvert, have you?”
“Caught sight of them? Why, man alive, that’s just what I’ve come up here to tell you! I’ve had them in sight for over an hour now. Seems to me you ought to be able to see them easy enough—you who carry your eyes so high up in the air!... Good Lord! it won’t be long before they arrive here, at the rate they’re coming!”
“What’s that you say?” the others burst out with one voice.... “Where are they?” ...
“I reckon Per Hansa must have got off his course a little. Maybe the oxen didn’t steer well, or maybe he didn’t figure the current right.... Look to the westward, neighbours! Look over there about west-northwest, and you’ll see him plain enough.... No need to worry. That fellow never would drown in such shallow water as this!... I wonder, now, how far west he’s really been?”
Hans Olsa and his wife faced around in the direction that Tönseten had indicated. Sure enough, out of the west a little caravan was crawling up toward them on the prairie.
“Can that be them?... I really believe it is!” said Hans Olsa in a half whisper, as if hardly daring yet to give vent to his joy.
“Of course it is!” cried his wife, excitedly.... “Thank God!”
“Not the least doubt of it,” Tönseten assured them. “You might as well go and put your coffeepot on the stove, Mother Sörrina!4 That Kjersti of mine is coming over pretty soon; she’ll probably have something good tucked under her apron.... In half an hour we’ll have the lost sheep back in the fold!”
“Yes! Heavens and earth, Sörrina!” cried Hans Olsa, “fetch out the best you’ve got!... Per, Per, is it really you, old boy?... But why are you coming from the west, I’d like to know?”
Tönseten coughed, and gave the woman a sly wink.
“Look here, Mother Sörrina,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes, “won’t you be good enough, please, to take a peek at Hans Olsa’s Sunday bottle?... Not that I want anything to drink, you understand—I should say not. Good Lord, no! But think of that poor woman out there, who has been suffering all this time without a drop! And I’d be willing to bet that Per Hansa wouldn’t object to having his stomach warmed up a little, too!”
At that they burst out laughing, from mingled joy and relief; but Tönseten’s laughter at his own joke was the loudest of all.... Work was resumed at once; Syvert began to carry the sods for Hans Olsa to lay up, while Mother Sörrina went off in a happy frame of mind, to make her preparations for the reception of the wanderers.
Before the half hour allotted by Tönseten had passed, the caravan came slowly crawling up the slope. Per Hansa still strode in the van, with Store-Hans at his side; Ole walked abreast of the oxen, driving them with the goad. Beret and And-Ongen sat in the wagon. Rosie came jogging along behind at her own gait; she gave a loud, prolonged “moo-o-o-o” as she discovered the other animals across the prairie.
Both families stood ready to receive them; Hans Olsa and Sörine, Tönseten and his Kjersti, all watching intently the movements of the approaching company; but the girl couldn’t possess her patience any longer, and ran down to meet the new arrivals. She took Store-Hans by the hand and fell in beside him; the first question she asked was whether he hadn’t been terribly scared at night?...
As the slope of the hill grew steeper, the oxen had to bend to the yoke.
“Hey, there, folks!” shouted Per Hansa, boisterously. “Don’t be standing around loafing, now! It’s only the middle of the afternoon. Haven’t you got anything to do around here?”
“Coffee time, coffee time, Per Hansa ... ha, ha, ha!” Tönseten was bubbling over with good spirits. “We thought we might as well wait a little while for you, you know.”
... “You’ve found us at last!” said Hans Olsa, with a deep, happy chuckle.... He didn’t seem able to let go of Per Hansa’s hand.
“Found you? Why, devil take it, it’s no trick to follow a course out here! You just have to keep on steering straight ahead. And you had marked the trail pretty well, all the way along. I found plenty of traces of you.... I guess we stood a little too far to the westward, between Sioux Falls and here; that’s how it happened.... So this is the place, is it?... The pastures of Goshen in the land of Egypt—eh?”
“Just so, just so!” cried Tönseten, nodding and laughing. “Pastures of Goshen—right you are! That’s exactly what we are going to call the place—Goshen—if only you haven’t sailed in to mix things up for us!” ...
Beret and the child had now got down from the wagon; the other two women hovered around her, drawing her toward the tent. But she hung back for a moment; she wanted to stop and look around.
... Was this the place?... Here!... Could it be possible?... She stole a glance at the others, at the half-completed hut, then turned to look more closely at the group standing around her; and suddenly it struck her that here something was about to go wrong.... For several days she had sensed this same feeling; she could not seem to tear herself loose from the grip of it.... A great lump kept coming up in her throat; she swallowed hard to keep it back, and forced herself to look calm. Surely, surely, she mustn’t give way to her tears now, in the midst of all this joy....
Then she followed the other two women into the tent; seeing a chair, she sank down in it, as if her strength had gone!
Sörine was patting her on the shoulder.... “Come, get your things off, Beret. You ought to loosen up your clothes, you know. Just throw this dress of mine around you.... Here’s the water to wash yourself in. Let down your hair, and take your time about it.... Don’t mind Kjersti and me being around.”
After they had bustled about for a little while the others left her. The moment they had gone she jumped up and crossed the tent, to look out of the door.... How will human beings be able to endure this place? she thought. Why, there isn’t even a thing that one can hide behind!... Her sensitive, rather beautiful face was full of blank dismay; she turned away from the door and began to loosen her dress; then her eyes fell on the centre pole with its crosspiece, hung with clothes, and she stood a moment irresolute, gazing at it in startled fright.... It looked like the giants she had read about as a child; for a long while she was unable to banish the picture from her mind.
Outside the tent, Ole stood with his hand resting on one of the oxen. He was disgusted; the older people seemed to have clean forgotten his existence. They never would get done talking—when he, too, might have had a word to put in!...
“Hadn’t we better unhitch the oxen, Dad?”
“Yes, yes—that’s right, Ola. We might as well camp down here for the night, since we’ve run across some folks we used to know.... How about it, you fellows?” He turned to the other two. “I suppose there’s a little more land left around here, isn’t there, after you’ve got through?”
“Land? Good God! Per Hansa, what are you talking about? Take whatever you please, from here to the Pacific Ocean!” Tönseten’s enthusiasm got so far away with him that he had to pull one of his hands out of his waistband and make a sweeping circle with it in the air.
“You must take a look around as soon as you can,” Hans Olsa said, “and see if you find anything better that meets your fancy. In the meanwhile I’ve put down a stake for you on the quarter section that lies north of mine. We’ll go over and have a look at it pretty soon. Sam Solum wanted it, but I told him he’d better leave it till you came.... You see, you would be next to the creek there; and then you and I would be the nearest neighbours, just as we’ve always planned. It makes no particular difference to Sam; he can take the quarter alongside his brother’s.”
Per Hansa drew a deep breath, as if filling himself with life’s great goodness.... Here Hans Olsa had been worrying about him, and with kindly forethought had arranged everything to his advantage!... “Well, well, we’ll have to settle all that later, Hans Olsa. For the present, I can only say that I’m deeply thankful to you!... Unhitch the beasts, there, Ola!... And now, if you folks have got anything handy, to either eat or drink, I’ll accept it with pleasure.”
... “Or both, Per Hansa!” put in Tönseten, excitedly.
“Yes, both, Syvert. I won’t refuse!”
Soon they were all gathered around a white cloth which Mother Sörine had spread on the ground. On one side of it lay a whole leg of dried mutton; on the other a large heap of flatbröd, with cheese, bread, and butter; in the centre of the cloth stood a large bowl of sweet milk, and from the direction of the stove the breeze wafted to them a pleasant odour of fried bacon and strong coffee. Mother Sörine herself took charge of the ceremony, bringing the food and urging them all to sit down. The stocky figure of Per Hansa rocked back and forth in blissful delight as he squatted there with his legs crossed under him.
“Come, Sörrina, sit down!” he cried. “I guess we’ve fallen in with gentlefolks, by the looks of things around here.... I suppose you think you’re old Pharaoh himself—eh, Hans Olsa?”
“Who do you call me, then?” inquired Tönseten.
“You, Syvert? Well, now, I really don’t know what to say. Of course you’d like to be His Majesty’s butler, but you mustn’t be encouraged—remember what happened to that poor fellow!... I think we’d better make you the baker—it might be safer, all around. What’s your idea, Hans Olsa?”
By this time they were all laughing together.
In the midst of the jollification came Sörine, carrying a plate with a large bottle and a dram glass5 on it.... “Here, take this off my hands, Hans Olsa—you will know what to do with it!”
Tönseten fairly bubbled over in his admiration for her:
“Oh, you sweet Sörrina-girl!—you’re dearer to my heart than a hundred women!... What a blessing it must be, to have a wife like that!”
“Stop your foolishness!” said Kjersti, but her voice didn’t sound too severe.
For a long while they continued to sit around the cloth, chatting, eating, and drinking, and thoroughly enjoying themselves. Hans Olsa seemed like a different man from the one who had eaten here at noon. His loud voice led the cheerful talk; his ponderous bulk was always the centre of the merriment; it seemed as if he would never tire of gazing into that bearded, roguish face of Per Hansa’s.
Once, as Per Hansa was slicing off a piece of mutton, he regarded the cut thoughtfully, and asked:
“I suppose you brought all your supplies through safe enough?”
“Oh, sure,” answered Hans Olsa, innocently. “We had no trouble at all—didn’t lose anything; that is, except for the leg that we left behind somewhere, east on the prairie. But that’s hardly worth mentioning.”
Per Hansa paused with the piece of meat halfway to his mouth, and looked at Sörine with an expression of deep concern:
“The devil you say! Did you lose one of your legs...?”
Mother Sörine laughed heartily at him. “Oh no—not quite so bad as that.... But a leg of mutton might come in handy later on, I’ll tell you; there aren’t too many of them to be had around here.”
Per Hansa chewed away on the meat and looked very serious. At last he said:
“That’s always the way with folks who have more of the world’s goods than they can take care.... But I’ll promise you one thing, Sörrina: if I can get my old blunderbuss to work, you’re going to have your lost leg back again.... How about it, fellows? Have you seen any game that’s fit to eat out here?”
III
They sat on until the first blue haze of evening began to spread eastward over the plain. The talk had now drifted to questions of a more serious nature, mostly concerned with how they should manage things out here; of their immediate prospects; of what the future might hold in store for them; of land and crops, and of the new kingdom which they were about to found.... No one put the thought into words, but they all felt it strongly; now they had gone back to the very beginning of things....
As the evening shadows deepened the conversation gradually died away into silence. A peculiar mood came drifting in with the dusk. It seemed to float on the evening breeze, to issue forth out of the heart of the untamed nature round about them; it lurked in the very vastness and endlessness surrounding them on every hand; it even seemed to rise like an impalpable mist out of the ground on which they sat.
This mood brought vague premonitions to them, difficult to interpret.... No telling what might happen out here ... for almost anything could happen!...
They were so far from the world ... cut off from the haunts of their fellow beings ... so terribly far!...
The faces that gazed into one another were sober now, as silence claimed the little company; but lines of strength and determination on nearly every countenance told of an inward resolve to keep the mood of depression from gaining full control.
Per Hansa was the first to rouse himself and throw off the spell. He jumped up with nervous energy; a shiver passed over him, as if he were having a chill.
“What is it—are you cold?” asked his wife. She had instinctively sensed his mood as she looked at him—and loved him better for it. Until that moment, she had supposed that she herself was the only one who felt this peculiar influence.
“Such crazy talk!” he burst out. “I believe we’ve all lost our senses, every last one of us! Here we sit around celebrating in broad daylight, in the middle of summer, as if it was the Christmas holidays!... Come on, woman, let’s go over to our new home!”
Everyone got up.
“You must do exactly as you please about it, Per Hansa,” spoke up Hans Olsa with an apologetic air. “Don’t feel that you must take this quarter if you don’t like it. But as far as I can see, it’s as good a piece of land as you could find anywhere around—every square foot of it plowland, except the hill over there. Plenty of water for both man and beast.... As for my part, if I can only sit here between you and Syvert, I certainly won’t be kicking about my neighbours.... But I don’t want you to feel that you have to take this quarter on my account, you understand.... If you do take it, though, we must get one of the Solum boys to go down to Sioux Falls with you the first thing to-morrow, so that you can file your claim. You’ll have to do that in any case, you know, whichever quarter you take.... There’s likely to be a lot of people moving into this region before the snow flies; we five oughtn’t to part company or let anyone get in between us.... You’ve heard my best advice, anyway.”
“Now, that’s the talk!” Tönseten chimed in, briskly. “And considering the size of the head it comes from, it isn’t half bad, either. You’re damned well right, Hans Olsa. Before the snow flies you’re going to see such a multitude swarming around these parts, that the thundering place won’t be fit to live in! Remember what I say, boys, in times to come—bear it in mind that those were Syvert’s very words!... You’ve got to go straight to Sioux Falls to-morrow morning, Per Hansa, and no two ways about it! If one of the Solum boys can’t go along to do the talking for you, why, I shall have to buckle down to the job myself.”
Once more Per Hansa’s heart filled with a deep sense of peace and contentment as he realized how matters were being smoothed out for him. They seemed to move of their own accord, but he knew better.... Was he really to own it? Was it really to become his possession, this big stretch of fine land that spread here before him? Was he really to have his friends for neighbours, both to the north and to the south—folks who cared for him and wanted to help him out in every way?...
He was still chuckling with the rare pleasure of it as he asked, “You haven’t discovered any signs of life since you came?”
“Devil, no!” Tönseten assured him. “Neither Israelites nor Canaanites! I was the first one to find this place, you know.... But there’s no telling how soon the drift will loosen, the way folks were talking back East last winter. And now the land office for this whole section of country has been moved to Sioux Falls, too. That means business; the government, you may be certain, has good reason for doing such a thing.” Tönseten spoke with all the importance of a man who has inside knowledge.
Per Hansa looked at him, and a bantering tone came into his voice:
“I see it clearly, Syvert—it would never do to keep you around here as a mere baker! We’ll have to promote you to a higher office, right away.... Now, boys, I’m going over to see this empire that you two have set aside for me. Ola, you hitch up the oxen again and bring the wagons along.”
With these commands he walked rapidly away; the others had almost to run in order to keep up with him. Strong emotions surged through him as he strode on....
“It lies high,” he observed after a while, when they had looked all the plowland over.... “There must be a fine view from the top of that hill.”
They were bending their steps in this direction, and soon had reached the highest point. It seemed so spacious and beautiful to stand high above the prairie and look around, especially now, when the shades of evening were falling.... Suddenly Per Hansa began to step more cautiously; he sniffed the air like an animal; in a moment he stopped beside a small depression in the ground, and stood gazing at it intently for quite a while; then he said, quietly:
“There are people buried here.... That is a grave!”
“Oh no, Per Hansa! It can’t be possible.”
“No doubt about it,” he said in the same subdued but positive tone.
Tönseten and Hans Olsa were so astonished that they could hardly credit the fact; they came over at once to where Per Hansa stood, and gazed down into the hollow.
Hans Olsa bent over and picked up a small stone that his eyes had lighted on; he turned it around in his hand several times.... “That’s a queer-looking piece of stone! I almost believe people have shaped it for some use.... Here, see what you make of it, Syvert.”
Tönseten’s ruddy face grew sober and thoughtful as he examined the object.
“By thunder! It certainly looks as if the Indians had been here!... Now isn’t that rotten luck?” ...
“I’m afraid so,” said Per Hansa, with a vigorous nod. Then he added, sharply, “But we needn’t shout the fact from the house-tops, you know!... It takes so very little to scare some folks around here.”
He waited no longer but walked hastily down the hill; at the foot he called to Ole, telling him not to drive any farther; but first he turned to Hans Olsa to find out whether they were well across the line between the two quarters.
“No use in building farther away from you than is absolutely necessary,” he said. “It’s going to be lonesome for the women-folks at times.” ...
... Awhile later, Tönseten was dragging his way homeward. For reasons that he wouldn’t admit even to himself, he walked a good deal heavier now than when he had climbed the slope that afternoon.
Per Hansa returned with his other neighbour to the wagons, where Beret and the children were waiting. Again he inquired about the line between the two quarters; then asked Beret and Hans Olsa to help pick the best building place; his words, though few and soberly spoken, had in them an unmistakable ring of determination.... This vast stretch of beautiful land was to be his—yes, his—and no ghost of a dead Indian would drive him away!... His heart began to expand with a mighty exaltation. An emotion he had never felt before filled him and made him walk erect.... “Good God!” he panted. “This kingdom is going to be mine!”
IV
Early the next morning Per Hansa and one of the Solum boys set out on the fifty-two-mile journey to Sioux Falls, where Per Hansa filed an application for the quarter-section of land which lay to the north of Hans Olsa’s. To confirm the application, he received a temporary deed to the land. The deed was made out in the name of Peder Benjamin Hansen; it contained a description of the land, the conditions which he agreed to fulfil in order to become the owner, and the date, June 6, 1873.
Sörine wanted Beret and the children to stay with her during the two days that her husband would be away; but she refused the offer with thanks. If they were to get ready a home for the summer, she said, she would have to take hold of matters right away.
... “For the summer?” exclaimed the other woman, showing her astonishment. “What about the winter, then?”
Beret saw that she had uttered a thought which she ought to have kept to herself; she evaded the question as best she could.
During the first day, both she and the boys found so much to do that they hardly took time to eat. They unloaded both the wagons, set up the stove, and carried out the table. Then Beret arranged their bedroom in the larger wagon. With all the things taken out it was quite roomy in there; it made a tidy bedroom when everything had been put in order. The boys thought this work great fun, and she herself found some relief in it for her troubled mind. But something vague and intangible hovering in the air would not allow her to be wholly at ease; she had to stop often and look about, or stand erect and listen.... Was that a sound she heard?... All the while, the thought that had struck her yesterday when she had first got down from the wagon, stood vividly before her mind: here there was nothing even to hide behind!... When the room was finished, and a blanket had been hung up to serve as a door, she seemed a little less conscious of this feeling. But back in the recesses of her mind it still was there....
After they had milked the cow, eaten their evening porridge, and talked awhile to the oxen, she took the boys and And-Ongen and strolled away from camp. With a common impulse, they went toward the hill; when they had reached the summit, Beret sat down and let her gaze wander aimlessly around.... In a certain sense, she had to admit to herself, it was lovely up here. The broad expanse stretching away endlessly in every direction, seemed almost like the ocean—especially now, when darkness was falling. It reminded her strongly of the sea, and yet it was very different.... This formless prairie had no heart that beat, no waves that sang, no soul that could be touched ... or cared....
The infinitude surrounding her on every hand might not have been so oppressive, might even have brought her a measure of peace, if it had not been for the deep silence, which lay heavier here than in a church. Indeed, what was there to break it? She had passed beyond the outposts of civilization; the nearest dwelling places of men were far away. Here no warbling of birds rose on the air, no buzzing of insects sounded;6 even the wind had died away; the waving blades of grass that trembled to the faintest breath now stood erect and quiet, as if listening, in the great hush of the evening.... All along the way, coming out, she had noticed this strange thing: the stillness had grown deeper, the silence more depressing, the farther west they journeyed; it must have been over two weeks now since she had heard a bird sing! Had they travelled into some nameless, abandoned region? Could no living thing exist out here, in the empty, desolate, endless wastes of green and blue?... How could existence go on, she thought, desperately? If life is to thrive and endure, it must at least have something to hide behind!...
The children were playing boisterously a little way off. What a terrible noise they made! But she had better let them keep on with their play, as long as they were happy.... She sat perfectly quiet, thinking of the long, oh, so interminably long march that they would have to make, back to the place where human beings dwelt. It would be small hardship for her, of course, sitting in the wagon; but she pitied Per Hansa and the boys—and then the poor oxen!... He certainly would soon find out for himself that a home for men and women and children could never be established in this wilderness.... And how could she bring new life into the world out here!...
Slowly her thoughts began to centre on her husband; they grew warm and tender as they dwelt on him. She trembled as they came....
But only for a brief while. As her eyes darted nervously here and there, flitting from object to object and trying to pierce the purple dimness that was steadily closing in, a sense of desolation so profound settled upon her that she seemed unable to think at all. It would not do to gaze any longer at the terror out there, where everything was turning to grim and awful darkness.... She threw herself back in the grass and looked up into the heavens. But darkness and infinitude lay there, also—the sense of utter desolation still remained.... Suddenly, for the first time, she realized the full extent of her loneliness, the dreadful nature of the fate that had overtaken her. Lying there on her back, and staring up into the quiet sky across which the shadows of night were imperceptibly creeping, she went over in her mind every step of their wanderings, every mile of the distance they had travelled since they had left home....
First they had boarded the boat at Sandnessjöen.... This boat had carried them southward along the coast.... In Namsos there had been a large ship with many white sails, that had taken her, with her dear ones, and sailed away—that had carried them off relentlessly, farther and farther from the land they knew. In this ship they had sailed for weeks; the weeks had even grown into months; they had seemed to be crossing an ocean which had no end.... There had been something almost laughable in this blind course, steadily fixed on the sunset! When head winds came, they beat up against them; before sweeping fair breezes they scudded along; but always they were westering!...
... At last they had landed in Quebec. There she had walked about the streets, confused and bewildered by a jargon of unintelligible sounds that did not seem like the speech of people.... Was this the Promised Land? Ah no—it was only the beginning of the real journey.... Then something within her had risen up in revolt: I will go no farther!...
... But they had kept on, just the same—had pushed steadily westward, over plains, through deserts, into towns, and out of them again.... One fine day they had stood in Detroit, Michigan. This wasn’t the place, either, it seemed.... Move on!... Once more she had felt the spirit of revolt rising to shout aloud: I will go no farther!... But it had been as if a resistless flood had torn them loose from their foundations and was carrying them helplessly along on its current—flinging them here and there, hurling them madly onward, with no known destination ahead.
Farther and farther onward ... always west.... For a brief while there had been a chance to relax once more; they had travelled on water again, and she could hear the familiar splash of waves against the ship’s side. This language she knew of old, and did not fear; it had lessened the torture of that section of the journey for her, though they had been subjected to much ill-treatment and there had been a great deal of bullying and brawling on board.
At last the day had arrived when they had landed in Milwaukee. But here they were only to make a new start—to take another plunge into the unknown.... Farther, and always farther.... The relentless current kept whirling them along.... Was it bound nowhere, then?... Did it have no end?...
In the course of time they had come jogging into a place called Prairie du Chien.... Had that been in Wisconsin, or some other place named after savages?... It made no difference—they had gone on. They had floundered along to Lansing, in Iowa.... Onward again. Finally they had reached Fillmore County, in Minnesota.... But even that wasn’t the place, it seemed!...
... Now she was lying here on a little green hillock, surrounded by the open, endless prairie, far off in a spot from which no road led back!... It seemed to her that she had lived many lives already, in each one of which she had done nothing but wander and wander, always straying farther away from the home that was dear to her.
She sat up at last, heaved a deep sigh, and glanced around as if waking from a dream.... The unusual blending of the gentle and forceful in her features seemed to be thrown into relief by the scene in which she sat and the twilight hovering about her, as a beautiful picture is enhanced by a well-chosen frame.
The two boys and their little sister were having great fun up here. So many queer things were concealed under the tufts of grass. Store-Hans came running, and brought a handful of little flat, reddish chips of stone that looked as though they had been carved out of the solid rock; they were pointed at one end and broadened out evenly on both sides, like the head of a spear. The edges were quite sharp; in the broad end a deep groove had been filed. Ole brought more of them, and gave a couple to his little sister to play with.... The mother sat for a while with the stones in her lap, where the children had placed them; at last she took them up, one by one, and examined them closely.... These must have been formed by human hands, she thought.
Suddenly Ole made another rare discovery. He brought her a larger stone, that looked like a sledge hammer; in this the groove was deep and broad.
The mother got up hastily.
“Where are you finding these things?”
The boys at once took her to the place; in a moment she, too, was standing beside the little hollow at the brow of the hill, which the men had discovered the night before; the queer stones that the children had been bringing her lay scattered all around.
“Ola says that the Indians made them!” cried Store-Hans, excitedly. “Is it true, mother?... Do you suppose they’ll ever come back?”
“Yes, maybe—if we stay here long enough....” She remained standing awhile beside the hollow; the same thought possessed her that had seized hold of her husband when he had first found the spot—here a human being lay buried. Strangely enough, it did not frighten her; it only showed her more plainly, in a stronger, harsher light, how unspeakably lonesome this place was.
The evening dusk had now almost deepened into night. It seemed to gather all its strength around her, to close in on every side, to have its centre in the spot where she stood. The wagons had become only a dim speck in the darkness, far, far away; the tent at Hans Olsa’s looked like a tuft of grass that had whitened at the top; Tönseten’s sod house she was unable to make out at all.... She could not bring herself to call aloud to the boys; instead, she walked around the hollow, spoke to them softly, and said that it was time to go home.... No, no, they mustn’t take the stones with them to-night! But to-morrow they might come up here again to play.
... Beret could not go to sleep for a long time that night. At last she grew thoroughly angry with herself; her nerves were taut as bowstrings; her head kept rising up from the pillow to listen—but there was nothing to hear ... nothing except the night wind, which now had begun to stir.
... It stirred with so many unknown things!...
V
Per Hansa came home late the following afternoon; he had so many words of praise for what she and the boys had accomplished while he had been gone, that he fairly bewildered her. Now it had taken possession of him again—that indomitable, conquering mood which seemed to give him the right of way wherever he went, whatever he did. Outwardly, at such times, he showed only a buoyant recklessness, as if wrapped in a cloak of gay, wanton levity; but down beneath all this lay a stern determination of purpose, a driving force, so strong that she shrank back from the least contact with it.
To-day he was talking in a steady stream.
“Here is the deed to our kingdom, Beret-girl! See to it that you take good care of the papers.... Isn’t it stranger than a fairy tale, that a man can have such things here, just for the taking?... Yes—and years after he won the princess, too!” He cocked his head on one side. “I’ll tell you what, it seems so impossible and unheard of, that I can’t quite swallow it all yet.... What do you say, my Beret-girl?”
Beret stood smiling at him, with tears in her eyes, beside the improvised house that she had made; there was little for her to say. And what would be the use of speaking now? He was so completely wrapped up in his own plans that he would not listen nor understand. It would be wrong, too, to trouble him with her fears and misgivings.... When he felt like this he was so tender to her, so cheerful, so loving and kind.... How well she knew Per Hansa!...
“What are you thinking about it all, my Beret-girl?” He flung his arm around her, whirled her off her feet, and drew her toward him.
“Oh, Per, it’s only this—I’m so afraid out here!” She snuggled up against him, as if trying to hide herself. “It’s all so big and open ... so empty.... Oh, Per! Not another human being from here to the end of the world!”
Per Hansa laughed loud and long, so that she winced under the force and meaning of it. “There’ll soon be more people, girl ... never you fear.... By God! there’ll soon be more people here!”
But suddenly another idea took hold of him. He led her over to the large chest, made her sit down, and stood in front of her with a swaggering air:
“Now let me tell you what came into my mind yesterday, after I had got the papers. I went right out and bought ten sacks of potatoes! I felt so good, Beret—and you know how we men from Nordland like potatoes!” he added with a laugh. “This is the point of it: we’re not going to start right in with building a house. The others are just foolish to do it.” His voice grew low and eager. “They’re beginning at the wrong end, you see. For my part, I’m going over to Hans Olsa’s this very night and borrow his plow—and to-morrow morning I shall start breaking my ground! Yes, sir! I tell you those potatoes have got to go into the ground at once. Do you hear me, Beret-girl? If the soil out here is half as good as it’s cracked up to be, we’ll have a fine crop the very first fall!... Then I can build later in the summer, you know, when I am able to take my time about it.... Just wait, my girl, just wait. It’s going to be wonderful; you’ll see how wonderful I can make it for you, this kingdom of ours!” He laughed until his eyes were drawn out in two narrow slits. “And no old worn-out, thin-shanked, pot-bellied king is going to come around and tell me what I have to do about it, either!”
He explained to her at great length how he intended to arrange everything and how success would crown his efforts, she sitting there silently on the chest, he standing in front of her, waving his arms; while about them descended the grandeur of the evening. But with all his strength and enthusiasm, and with all her love, he didn’t succeed in winning her heart over altogether—no, not altogether. She had heard with her own ears how no bird sang out here; she had seen with her own eyes how, day after day as they journeyed, they had left the abodes of men farther and farther behind. Wasn’t she sitting here now, gazing off into an endless blue-green solitude that had neither heart nor soul?...
“Do you know,” she said, quietly, as she got up once more and leaned close against him, “I believe there is a grave over there on the hill?”
“Why, Beret! Did you find it? Have you been going around brooding over that, too?... Don’t worry, girl. He’ll bring us nothing but good luck, the fellow who lies up there.”
“Perhaps.... But it seems so strange that some one lies buried in unconsecrated ground right at our very door. How quiet it must be there!... The children found so many things to play with, while we were up on the hill last night, that I let them go again to-night. Come, we had better begin to look for them.... It is beautiful up there.” She sighed, and moved away.
They climbed the hill together, holding each other’s hands. There was something in that sad resignation of hers which he was powerless against. As he walked beside her and held her hand, he felt as if he could laugh and cry in the same breath.... She was so dear, so dear to him. Why could he never make her understand it fully? It was a strange, baffling thing! But perhaps the reason for it lay in this: she was not built to wrestle with fortune—she was too fine-grained.... Oh, well—he knew one person, at any rate, who stood ready to do the fighting for her!
Per Hansa had so much to think about that night that a long time passed before he could get to sleep. Now was a good chance to make his plans, while Beret lay at his side, sleeping safe and sound; he must utilize every moment now; he didn’t feel very tired, either.
There seemed to be no end to the things he needed. But thirty dollars was all the money he had in the world; and when he thought of what would have to be bought in the near future, and of everything that waited to be done, the list grew as long as the distance they had travelled.... First of all, house and barn; that would need doors and windows. Then food and tobacco; shoes and clothing; and implements—yes, farming implements! If he only had horses and the necessary implements, the whole quarter-section would soon blossom like a garden.... The horses he would have to do without, to begin with. But he ought to get at least one more cow before fall came—no dodging that fact.... And pigs—he absolutely had to have some pigs for winter!... If the potatoes turned out well, there would be plenty to feed them on.... Then he would buy some chickens, as soon as he could run across any folks who had chickens to sell. Things like that would only be pleasant diversions for Beret.... There certainly seemed to be no end to all that he needed.
... But now came the main hitch in his calculations: Beret was going to have a baby again.... Only a blessing, of course—but what a lot of their time it would take up, just now!... Oh, well, she would have to bear the brunt of it herself, as the woman usually did. A remarkably brave and clever wife, that she was ... a woman of tender kindness, of deep, fine fancies—one whom you could not treat like an ordinary clod.
... How hard he would strive to make life pleasant for her out here! Her image dominated all the visions which now seemed to come to him of their own accord.... The Whole farm lay there before him, broken and under cultivation, yielding its fruitful harvests; there ran many horses and cows, both young and grown. And over on the location where to-day he was about to build the sod hut should stand a large dwelling ... a white house, it would be! Then it would gleam so beautifully in the sun, white all over—but the cornices should be bright green!...
When, long ago, Per Hansa had had his first vision of the house, it had been painted white, with green cornices; and these colours had belonged to it in his mind ever since. But the stable, the barn, and all the rest of the outhouses should be painted red, with white cornices—for that gave such a fine effect!... Oh yes, that Beret-girl of his should certainly have a royal mansion for herself and her little princess!...
VI
As Per Hansa lay there dreaming of the future it seemed to him that hidden springs of energy, hitherto unsuspected even by himself, were welling up in his heart. He felt as if his strength were inexhaustible. And so he commenced his labours with a fourteen-hour day; but soon, as the plans grew clearer, he began to realize how little could be accomplished in that short span of time, with so much work always ahead of him; he accordingly lengthened the day to sixteen hours, and threw in another hour for good measure; at last he found himself wondering if a man couldn’t get along with only five hours of rest, in this fine summer weather.
His waking dreams passed unconsciously into those of sleep; all that night a pleasant buoyancy seemed to be lifting him up and carrying him along; at dawn, when he opened his eyelids, morning was there to greet him—the morning of a glorious new day.... He saw that it was already broad daylight; with a guilty start, he came wide awake. Heavens! he might have overslept himself—on this morning!... He jumped into his clothes, and found some cold porridge to quiet his hunger for the time being; then he hurried out, put the yoke on the oxen, and went across to Hans Olsa’s to fetch the plow.... Over there no life was stirring yet. Well, maybe they could afford to sleep late in the morning; but he had arrived five days behind the others, and had just been delayed for two days more; they had a big start over him already. His heart sang as he thought how he would have to hurry!... He led the oxen carefully, trying to make as little noise around the tent as possible.
Dragging the plow, he drove out for some distance toward the hillock, then stopped and looked around. This was as good a place as anywhere to start breaking.... He straightened up the plow, planted the share firmly in the ground, and spoke to the oxen: “Come now, move along, you lazy rascals!” He had meant to speak gruffly, but the thrill of joy that surged over him as he sank the plow in his own land for the first time, threw such an unexpected tone of gentleness into his voice that the oxen paid no attention to it; he found that he would have to resort to more powerful encouragement; but even with the goad it was hard to make them bend to the yoke so early in the morning. After a little, however, they began to stretch their muscles. Then they were off; the plow moved ... sank deeper ... the first furrow was breaking....
It would have gone much easier now if Ole had only been there to drive the oxen, so that he could have given his whole attention to the plow. But never mind that!... The boy ought to sleep for at least another hour; the day would be plenty long enough for him, before it was through.... Young bulls have tender sinews—though for one of his age, Ole was an exceptionally able youngster.
That first furrow turned out very crooked for Per Hansa; he made a long one of it, too. When he thought he had gone far enough and halted the oxen, the furrow came winding up behind him like a snake. He turned around, drove the oxen back in the opposite direction, and laid another furrow up against the one he had already struck.... At the starting point again, he surveyed his work ruefully. Well, the second furrow wasn’t any crookeder than the first, at all events!... When he had made another round he let the oxen stand awhile; taking the spade which he had brought out, he began to cut the sod on one side of the breaking into strips that could be handled. This was to be his building material.... Field for planting on the one hand, sods for a house on the other—that was the way to plow!... Leave it to Per Hansa—he was the fellow to have everything figured out beforehand!
By breakfast time he had made a fine start. No sooner had he swallowed the last morsel than he ordered both the boys to turn to, hitched the oxen to the old homemade wagon, and off they all went together toward the field, Per Hansa leading the way.... “You’d better cook the kettles full to-day!” he shouted back, as they were leaving. “We’re going to punish a lot of food when we come in!”
Now Per Hansa began working in real earnest. He and Store-Hans, with plow and oxen, broke up the land; Ole used the hoe, but the poor fellow was having a hard time of it. The sod, which had been slumbering there undisturbed for countless ages, was tough of fibre and would not give up its hold on the earth without a struggle. It almost had to be turned by main strength, piece by piece; it was a dark brownish colour on the under side—a rich, black mould that gave promise of wonderful fertility; it actually gleamed and glistened under the rays of the morning sun, where the plow had carved and polished its upturned face.... Ole toiled on, settling and straightening the furrows as best he could, now and then cutting out the clods that fell unevenly. When Per Hansa had made a couple of rounds, he let the oxen stand awhile to catch their breath, and came over to Ole to instruct him. “This is the way to do it!” he said, seizing the hoe. “Watch me, now—like this!” He hewed away till the clods were flying around him.... When they quit work at noon a good many furrows lay stretched out on the slope, smiling up at the sun; they were also able to bring home with them a full wagonload of building material; at coffee time they brought another; at supper another. But when, arriving home at the end of the day, they found that supper was not quite ready, Per Hansa felt that he must go after still another load; they had better make use of every minute of time!
VII
He began building the house that same evening.
“You ought to rest, Per Hansa!” Beret pleaded. “Please use a little common sense!”
“Rest—of course! That’s just what I propose to do!... Come along, now, all hands of you; you can’t imagine what fun this is going to be.... Just think of it—a new house on our own estate! I don’t mean that you’ve got to work, you know; but come along and watch the royal mansion rise!”
They all joined in, nevertheless ... couldn’t have kept their hands off. It gave them such keen enjoyment that they worked away until they could no longer see to place the strips of sod. Then Per Hansa called a halt—that was enough for one day. They had laboured hard and faithfully; well, they would get their wages in due time, every last one of them—but he couldn’t bother with such trifles just now!
... That night sleep overpowered him at once; he was too tired even to dream.
From now on Per Hansa worked on the house every morning before breakfast, and every evening as soon as he had finished supper. The whole family joined in the task when they had nothing else to do; it seemed like a fascinating game.
To the eyes of Tönseten and Hans Olsa, it appeared as if nothing short of witchcraft must be at work on Per Hansa’s quarter section; in spite of the fact that he and his entire family were breaking ground in the fields the whole day long, a great sod house shot up beside the wagon, like an enormous mushroom.
Per Hansa plowed and harrowed, delved and dug; he built away at the house, and he planted the potatoes; he had such a zest for everything and thought it all such fun that he could hardly bear to waste a moment in stupid sleep. It was Beret who finally put a check on him. One morning, as he threw off the blanket at dawn, on the point of jumping up in his reckless way, she lay there awake, waiting for him. The moment he stirred, she put her arms lovingly around him and told him that he must stay in bed awhile longer. This would never do, she said; he ought to remember that he was only a human being.... She begged him so gently and soothingly that he gave in at last and stayed in bed with her. But he was ill at ease over the loss of time. It wouldn’t take long to lay a round of sod, and every round helped.... This Beret-girl of his meant well enough, but she didn’t realize the multitude of things that weighed on his mind—things that couldn’t wait, that had to be attended to immediately!
... Yes, she was an exceptional woman, this Beret of his; he didn’t believe that her like existed anywhere else under the sun. During the last two days she had hurried through her housework, and then, taking And-Ongen by the hand, had come out in the field with them; she had let the child roam around and play in the grass while she herself had joined in their labour; she had pitched in beside them and taken her full term like any man. It had all been done to make things easier for him ... and now she was lying awake here, just to look after him!
... He thought of other things that she had done. When they had harrowed and hoed sufficient seed ground, Beret had looked over her bundles and produced all kinds of seeds—he couldn’t imagine how or where she had got them—turnips, and carrots, and onions, and tomatoes, and melons, even!... What a wife she was!... Well, he had better stay in bed and please her this time, when she had been so clever and thoughtful about everything.
However it was accomplished, on Per Hansa’s estate they had a field all broken and harrowed and seeded down, and a large house ready for thatching, by the time that Hans Olsa and the Solum boys had barely finished thatching their houses and started the plowing. Tönseten, though, was ahead of him with the breaking—Per Hansa had to accept that—and was now busy planting his potatoes. But Syvert had every reason to be in the lead; his house had been all ready to move into when they had arrived. That little stable which he had built wasn’t more than a decent day’s work for an able man. And he had horses, too.... Of course, such things gave him a big advantage!
They finished planting the big field at Per Hansa’s late one afternoon; all the potatoes that he had brought home from Sioux Falls had been cut in small pieces and tucked away in the ground.... “Only one eye to each piece!” he had warned Beret as she sat beside him, cutting them up. “That’s enough for such rich soil.” ... The other seed, which she had provided with such splendid forethought, had also been planted. The field looked larger than it really was. It stood out clearly against the fresh verdure of the hillside; from a little distance it appeared as if some one had sewn a dark brown patch on a huge green cloth.... That patch looked mighty good to Per Hansa as he stood surveying the scene, his whole being filled with the sense of completed effort. Here he had barely arrived in a new country; yet already he had got more seed into the ground than on any previous year since Beret and he had started out for themselves.... Just wait! What couldn’t he do another year!
“Well, Beret-girl,” he said, “we’ve cleaned up a busy spring season, all right! To-night we ought to have an extra-fine dish of porridge, to bless what has been put into the ground.” He stood there with sparkling eyes, admiring his wonderful field.
Beret was tired out with the labour she had undergone; her back ached as if it would break. She, too, was looking at the field, but the joy he felt found no response in her.
... I’m glad that he is happy, she thought, sadly. Perhaps in time I will learn to like it, too.... But she did not utter the thought; she merely took the child by the hand, turned away, and went back to their wagon-home. There she measured out half of the milk that Rosie had given that morning, dipped some grits from the bag and prepared the porridge, adding water until it was thin enough. Before she served it up she put a small dab of butter in each dish, like a tiny eye that would hardly keep open; then she sprinkled over the porridge a small portion of sugar; this was all the luxury she could afford. Indeed, her heart began to reproach her even for this extravagance. But when she saw the joyful faces of the boys, and heard Per Hansa’s exclamations over her merits as a housekeeper, she brightened up a little, cast her fears to the wind, and sprinkled on more sugar from the bag.... Then she sat down among them, smiling and happy; she was glad that she hadn’t told them how her back was aching....
... They all worked at the house building that night as long as they could see.
VIII
Per Hansa’s house certainly looked as if it were intended for a royal mansion. When Tönseten saw it close at hand for the first time he exclaimed:
“Will you please inform me, Per Hansa, what the devil you think you’re building? Is it just a house, or is it a church and parsonage rolled in one?... Have you lost your senses altogether, man? You won’t be able to get a roof over this crazy thing in a month of Sundays!... Why, damn it all, there aren’t willows enough in this whole region to thatch a half of it! You might just as well tear it down again, for all the good it will do.”
“The hell you say!” cried Per Hansa, genially. “But there it stands, as big as Billy-be-damned, so what are you going to do about it?... The notion I had was this: I might as well build for my sons, too, while I was about it. Then when they got married and needed more room they could thatch a new section any time.... What ails you, Syvert? Isn’t there plenty of sod for roofing, all the way from here to the Pacific coast?”
But Tönseten took a serious view of the affair:
“I tell you, Per Hansa, there’s no sense in such a performance. It isn’t the sod, it’s the poles—you know it damned well!... You’d better go right ahead and tear it down as fast as ever you can!”
“Oh, well, I suppose I’ll have to, then,” said Per Hansa, dryly.
As a matter of fact, it was hardly to be wondered at that Tönseten grew excited when he saw this structure; it differed radically from the one he had built and from all the others that he had ever seen. He wondered if such a silly house as this could be found anywhere else in the whole country.... His own hut measured fourteen by sixteen feet; the one that the Solum boys were building was only fourteen feet each way; Hans Olsa had been reckless and had laid his out eighteen feet long and sixteen feet wide.... But look at this house of Per Hansa’s—twenty-eight feet long and eighteen feet wide! Moreover, it had two rooms, one of them eighteen by eighteen, the other eighteen by ten. The rooms were separated by a wall; one had a door opening toward the south, the other a door opening toward the east. Two doors in a sod hut! My God! what folly! In the smaller room the sod even had been taken up, so that the floor level there was a foot below that of the larger room. What was the sense of that?... If we don’t look out, thought Tönseten, this crazy man will start building a tower on it, too!
Things surely looked serious to Tönseten. In the first place, Per Hansa plainly was getting big-headed; heavens and earth, it was nothing but an ordinary sod hut that he was building! In the second place, it wasn’t a practical scheme. If he were to search till doomsday, he wouldn’t be able to find enough willows for the thatching. Why, he might just as well thatch the whole firmament, and be done with it!... As soon as he had looked his fill, Tönseten trotted right over to Hans Olsa’s, told him all about it, and asked him to go and reason with the man.... But, no, Hans Olsa didn’t care to meddle in that affair. Per Hansa had a considerable family already; it might grow in the next few years; at any rate, he needed a fairly large house. Above all, he wasn’t the man to bite off more than he could chew.
“But that’s just it—he doesn’t know what he’s bitten off! He doesn’t know anything at all about building a house!” With these drastic words, Tönseten went directly to the Solum boys; they had been born and brought up in America, and knew what was what. Now they must go, right away, and talk to Per Hansa about this crazy building that he was putting up! The only way out of it that he could think of was for them and himself—and maybe Hans Olsa—to go in a body and show him what to do, and help him to build a house then and there. The thing that he had put up was frankly impossible; the poor man would ruin himself before he got a decent start!...
To his great disappointment, the Solum boys wouldn’t go, either. It was Per Hansa’s own business, they said, what sort of a house he wanted to build for himself. So Tönseten had to give it up as a bad job. He shook his head solemnly.... A damned shame, that a perfectly good man had to go to ruin through sheer folly!
Per Hansa had put a great deal of thought into this matter of building a house; ever since he had first seen a sod hut he had pondered the problem. On the day that he was coming home from Sioux Falls a brilliant idea had struck him—an idea which had seemed perhaps a little queer, but which had grown more attractive the longer he turned it over in his mind. How would it do to build house and barn under one roof? It was to be only a temporary shelter, anyway—just a sort of makeshift, until he could begin on his real mansion. This plan would save time and labour, and both the house and the barn would be warmer for being together.... He had a vague recollection of having heard how people in the olden days used to build their houses in that way—rich people, even! It might not be fashionable any longer; but it was far from foolish, just the same.
It will go hard with Beret, he thought; she won’t like it. But after a while he picked up courage to mention his plan to her.
... House and barn under the same roof?... She said no more, but fell into deep and troubled thought.... Man and beast in one building? How could one live that way?... At first it seemed utterly impossible to her; but then she thought of how desolate and lonesome everything was here and of what a comfortable companion Rosie might be on dark evenings and during the long winter nights. She shuddered, and answered her husband that it made no difference to her whichever way he built, so long as it was snug and warm; but she said nothing about the real reason that had changed her mind.
This answer made Per Hansa very happy.
“Beret-girl, you are the most sensible woman that I know!... Of course it’s better, all around, for us to build that way!”
He, too, had reasons that he kept to himself.... Now he would get ahead of both Hans Olsa and the Solum boys! None of them had even begun to think of building a barn yet; while according to his plan, his barn would be finished when his house was done.
IX
One evening Per Hansa came over with his oxen to Hans Olsa’s to borrow his new wagon; the time had come to get his poles for the thatching. The others had been able to gather what they needed along the banks of a creek some ten miles to the southward, where a fringe of scattering willows grew; but it was small stock and a scanty supply at that; their roofs were certainly none too strong, and might not hold up through the next winter.... Per Hansa had a bigger and more original scheme in mind. If conditions were really as bad as Tönseten had made out, he’d have to find something besides willow poles for rafters on that house of his. The busy season of spring was over; now he proposed to rest on his oars awhile ... take a little time to nose around the prairie at his leisure. He had been told that the Sioux River was only twenty-five or thirty miles away; big stands of timber were reported to lie in that direction, and several settlements of Trönders,7 who had lived there for a number of years; many other interesting things would turn up, of course—things that he hadn’t heard about; he wanted to see it all and get a running idea of the whole locality. He confided to Hans Olsa where he was going, but asked him not to mention it to anyone else.... “We might as well keep this matter to ourselves, you know. Besides, something has got to be done about getting fuel for the winter.”
He brought the wagon home that evening, merely explaining that he and Store-Hans were going out to gather wood. Ole would have to look after the farm while they were away, and take the full responsibility on his shoulders. Store-Hans, who had been chosen to go on the trip, was overjoyed at the news; but his brother was reduced to the verge of tears at such an outrageous injustice. The idea of taking that boy along, and letting a grown man loaf around the house with nothing to do! For the first time his faith in his father’s judgment was shattered.... And the situation grew worse and worse as Ole watched the extensive preparations for the trip; it looked for all the world as if they intended to move out West! The father was taking along a kettle, and was measuring out supplies of flour, and salt, and coffee, and milk, besides a big heap of flatbröd and plenty of other food. But, heaviest blow of all, the rifle—Old Maria—was brought out from the big chest! Ole wept at that in sheer anger. Ax, rope, and sacks, too—everything was going!... And on top of it all, this youngster who wasn’t dry behind the ears yet had grown so conceited that he wouldn’t deign to talk to his brother; he kept fussing and smirking around his father all the time, speaking to him in low, confidential tones, and pushing himself to the front on every occasion! He seemed to be bubbling over with foolish questions. Shouldn’t they take this along, and this, and this?... But when at last he came dragging a piece of chain, even Per Hansa had to laugh outright. “That’s the boy, now! I might have forgotten the chain. And how could we go to the woods without a chain, I’d like to know?”
Beret got the food ready for the journey. Her face wore a sad, sober expression.... Yes, of course, the house must have a roof; she knew that perfectly well. How could they live in a house without a roof?... But now he was going to be away for another two-day stretch—two whole days and a night!... It wasn’t so bad in the daytime ... but at night...!
“You’d better take the children with you and go over to Mother Sörrina’s to-morrow evening,” Per Hansa advised her, cheerfully. “You can spend the whole evening there, you know, visiting and talking. It’ll make the time pass quicker, and you won’t be so lonesome.... You do that, Beret!”
To this suggestion she answered neither yes nor no. In her heart she knew very well that she wouldn’t follow his advice. She never could forget that evening of his trip to Sioux Falls, when she and the children had come down the hill toward the wagons; the air of the place had suddenly filled with terror and mystery. The wagons had floated like grey specks in the dusk; and all at once it had seemed as if the whole desolation of a vast continent were centring there and drawing a magic circle about their home. She had even seen the intangible barrier with her own eyes ... had seen it clearly ... had had to force herself to step across it.... Now she went on getting the food ready for them as well as she could; but from her sad lips there came not a word.
This was destined to be a memorable journey, both for those who went and for those who stayed at home.... Before it was over the latter were in a panic of apprehension and fear. The second day passed as the first had done; the second night, too; the third day came ... noon, but no one in sight.
Beret had not really begun to expect them until sometime during the second day; Per Hansa had told her not to begin looking before they came in sight. Nevertheless, she had found herself unconsciously doing it shortly after dinner on the very first day. She knew that it was foolish—they hadn’t even got there yet; but she couldn’t refrain from scanning the sky line in the quarter where they had disappeared.... She went to bed with the children early that evening.
The following evening she took them up on the hill; they sat there silently, gazing eastward over the plain. From this elevation her sight seemed to take flight and carry a long, long distance.... In the eastern sky the evening haze was gathering; it merged slowly into the purple dusk, out of which an intangible, mysterious presence seemed to be creeping closer and closer upon them. They sat trying to pierce it with their gaze; but neither wagon nor oxen crossed the line of their vision.... Ole took no interest in keeping watch; it was more fun for him to look for queer stones around the grave.... When the day was well-nigh dead and nothing had appeared, Beret suddenly felt that she must talk to some one to-night ... hear some human voice other than those of the two children. Almost in spite of herself, she directed her steps toward Hans Olsa’s.
—Hadn’t Per Hansa returned yet?
—No. She couldn’t imagine what had become of him! He surely ought to have been home by this time.
—Oh, well, she mustn’t worry; he had probably travelled a long way on this trip; no doubt he had made use of the opportunity to look around for winter fuel.
—Winter fuel?... She had never given a thought to that before; but of course they would need wood if they were going to stay through the winter. It suddenly occurred to her how much there was for Per Hansa to plan about and worry over; but she also felt a twinge of jealousy because he had not confided in her.... Winter fuel? Of course; it was the thing they needed most of all!
Mother Sörine was well aware that her neighbour did not have any courage to spare. She realized, too, how lonesome it must be for Beret, to sleep over there in the wagon with only the children. As the visitors were leaving she got up, called her daughter, and insisted on accompanying them back to the wagon. They chatted gaily and freely all the way ... and that night there was no magic circle to step across!
Some time after noon on the third day Per Hansa and Store-Hans came home with a load so big that the oxen were just barely able to sag up the slope with it. It was like an incident out of a fairy tale, that famous load. There was a stout timber for the ridgepole, there were crossbeams and scantlings, and rafters for the roof; but Ole only sneered at such prosaic things. Was that all they had gone for, he’d like to know? Farther down in the load, however, lay six bundles of young trees; their tops had been trimmed off, and the soil had been carefully wrapped around their roots with strips of bark.... “Those are to be planted around the house!” Store-Hans explained. “Would you believe it. Mother—in this bundle there are twelve plum trees! They grow great big plums! We met a man who told us all about them.” Store-Hans caught his breath from sheer excitement.... There were still stranger things in that load. In the back of the wagon, as the father unloaded, an opening almost like a small room was gradually revealed. Here lay two great bags—two bags brimful of curious articles. One of them evidently contained fish; the other seemed to hold the flayed carcass of a calf; at least, Ole thought so, and wanted to know where it had come from.
“Calf!” exclaimed Store-Hans. “What makes you think it’s a calf?” ...
Per Hansa winked slyly at his travelling companion; the wink warned him that he’d better say no more—for a little while!... Store-Hans assumed a knowing silence; but it could be seen with half an eye that he was bursting with important secrets. At last he was no longer able to contain himself.
... “Antelope!” he burst out, ecstatically.
Beret watched with speechless admiration the unloading of all the wonderful things that they had brought; she was so overjoyed to have her dear ones with her again that she could have burst into hysterical tears; as she stood beside the oxen she stroked their necks fondly, murmuring in a low voice that they were nice fellows to have hauled home such a heavy load.
... “Well, there!” said Per Hansa at last, when he had cleared the wagon. “Now, this is the idea: Store-Hans and I have figured on having fresh fish to-day, cooked in regular Nordland fashion, with soup and everything. We nearly killed ourselves, and the beasts, too, to get here in time.... Beret, what the devil have we got to put all this meat and fish into?”
Store-Hans ate that day as if he could never get enough; there seemed to be no bottom to the boy.... When he had finished the father chased him off to bed at once; and strange to say, he wasn’t at all unwilling though it was only the latter part of the afternoon. When evening came the mother tried to shake life into him again, but without success; once he roused enough to sit up in bed, but couldn’t get so far as to take off his clothes; the next moment he had thrown himself flat once more and was sleeping like a log.
As time went on this first expedition of Per Hansa’s came to be of great consequence to the new settlement on Spring Creek.... In the first place, there were all the trees that he had brought home and planted. This alone excited Tönseten’s enthusiasm to such a pitch that he was for leaving at once to get a supply of his own; but Hans Olsa and the Solum boys advised him to wait until the coming fall, so Tönseten reluctantly had to give up still another plan.
... But there were other things to do when fall came, and several years went by before the others had followed Per Hansa’s lead. This is the reason why, in the course of time, a stout grove of trees began to grow up around Per Hansa’s house before anything larger than a bush was to be seen elsewhere in the whole neighbourhood.
But the most important result of all, perhaps, was the acquaintance with the Trönders eastward on the Sioux River, which sprang out of this journey. Amid these strange surroundings, confronted by new problems, the two tribes, Trönder and Helgelander, met in a quite different relationship than on the Lofoten fishing grounds. Here they were glad enough to join forces in their common fight against the unknown wilderness....
... The Great Plain watched them breathlessly....