Chapter V: Introduction: I (3)

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.”

[7] People from the district of Trondhjem, Norway.

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....

III. “Rosie!—Rosie!”

I

The food supply was steadily vanishing. Bags and sacks yawned empty and had nothing to yield. The settlers shared freely with one another as long as they had anything left; but even at Hans Olsa’s, where plenty usually reigned, the food at last began to give out. Among the menfolk a crumb of tobacco was as rare as gold.... High time that they took the situation in hand and did something about it! Besides, the season was getting so far advanced that they would soon have to start in haying. No two ways about it—they must make a trip to town.

All the men, accordingly—Per Hansa, and Tönseten, and Hans Olsa, and the two Solum boys—met together one Sunday to discuss the matter. A trip to town in those days was a serious affair, which had to be planned carefully from beginning to end. The seventy or eighty miles through desolate country was in itself no trifle; one couldn’t expect to be back in less than four days, even with horses. And under pressure of time, it was hard to accomplish everything that one wanted to do. Provisions of all sorts must be replenished for the next season; first of all came food, and after that clothing; then tools and farming implements, as far as their money would go. If it wouldn’t go far enough they would have to find some other way out of the fix, but they must hold down to essentials in order to keep alive.... As yet, no one in the Spring Creek settlement was in a position to carry any produce along, to be sold for cash or given in exchange for wares. But they all looked forward to the time when this would be possible; it would be harder work to haul a load both ways, of course; but what a help it would be—and what a satisfaction—to have their own products to barter!

They at once agreed that some of the menfolk would have to stay at home, in case anything untoward happened.... It was a singular thing, not a soul in this little colony ever felt wholly at ease, though no one referred to the fact or cared to frame the thought in words. All of a sudden, apparently without any cause, a vague, nameless dread would seize hold of them; it would shake them for a while like an attack of nerves; or again, it might fill them with restless apprehension, making them quiet and cautious in everything they did. They seemed to sense an unseen force around them.... The men grew taciturn under the strain; they would cast about for some task or other on which they could work off the spell. With the women it found an outlet in talk; they often became extravagantly loud and boisterous over nothing at all. Few realized what this strange feeling was; none of them would have admitted that he was afraid.

... Yes, God defend them! Man’s strength availed but little out here. They had already experienced it more than once. Terrible storms would come up—so suddenly, with such appalling violence!... Mother Sörine had reason to be frightened of these storms. Less than a week ago their tent had been carried away in one of them; Sörine, trapped inside and half choked, had been swept along with the canvas. Hans Olsa had laid the tent rope across his shoulder, planted his feet solidly in the ground, and summoned all his giant strength; but he had been whirled away like a tuft of wool. It had turned out all right, however; no one was seriously hurt ... this time.

And then, the Indians!... “_Injuns_,” as the red children of the great plain were called in common speech. Kjersti, Tönseten’s wife, didn’t mind the storms so much; they never committed inhuman outrages ... weren’t out for your scalp, at any rate! But fear of the Indians was ever vividly present in her mind. Not a day passed that she didn’t search the sky line many times.... Why, one of the savages actually lay buried over on Per Hansa’s land! And where the dead had their abode, the living were sure to come.... Since she had learned of the grave she was always on the lookout....

Truth to tell, her fear of the Indians was very natural. She and Syvert had heard the tale of the terrors of ’62 so often that they could have repeated it word for word, as if from an open book. When they were living in Fillmore County, Minnesota, two refugees from the Norway Lake massacre had drifted into the place; the story of the horrors they had undergone had taken on new and grewsome details as it passed from mouth to mouth; out here now on the open prairie, where no hiding place could be found, the form in which Kjersti remembered it had assumed the fantastic proportions of a myth.

Tönseten, however, wasn’t a bit afraid of the Indians—not he! Who ever heard of such nonsense? Why should he or anyone else fear them, now that they had become peaceful and civilized? He tried his best to instill this idea into the others.... Per Hansa would sit listening to Tönseten with a quizzical smile on his face. “That’s right, Syvert—go on,” he would agree. “All the Indians have turned into honest-to-God gentlemen these last ten years, with red skullcaps, and wooden shoes, and long pipes, and everything else they need. It’s no trick at all, you know, for a savage to learn fine manners, as crowded with folks to teach him as it is out here!” ... From the Trönders on the Sioux River, Per Hansa had learned a great deal of valuable information about the Indians; he had heard of a place, not very far away, called Flandreau or some such outlandish name, where they had a permanent colony; west from this place an Indian trail ran all the way through to Nebraska, and along this route the red man was said to make his yearly journeys. More than likely, Per Hansa thought, his own quarter-section lay directly in their path; he inferred this from the grave on the hill and from what he had heard.... If it were true, the fact would be certain to come to light before the summer was over. In the meanwhile—well, no use to cross a bridge until you came to it.

The men never spoke of the Indians while the womenfolk were around. But at other times, whenever the subject came up for discussion, Ole and Store-Hans stood listening with open mouths.... The grave where they found the stones had now begun to strike a chill into their hearts; but it also exerted a strange and irresistible fascination.

... So here they all were, afraid of something or other. But the women were the worst off; Kjersti feared the Indians, Sörine the storms; and Beret, poor thing, feared both—and feared the very air.

The outcome of their deliberations that Sunday was only what might have been expected; it seemed the logical thing for Hans Olsa and Tönseten and Henry Solum, each of whom owned horses and wagon, to make up the party for the journey. That would give three men and three separate teams; such a caravan ought to be able to haul home on one trip whatever the settlement could afford to buy.

Per Hansa was badly out of sorts that day; every word that he let fall had a bitter sting to it; he said little and sat morose and silent most of the time. In his eyes, the whole affair had the appearance of having been settled beforehand. He and the other Solum boy were to stay at home and look after the settlement; that was the plan, though it hadn’t been stated in outright terms. It looked to Per Hansa like a pretty mean piece of business.... For his part, he took it as a matter of course that he was a better man for the trip to town than Syvert Tönseten or Henry Solum—neither of whom, God knows, had any more wits than he could get along with!... In all their talk, no one had even hinted at that side of the question. And certainly Per Hansa wasn’t the sort of man to force himself down anybody’s throat.... But, by God! it was disgusting to have to lie around the house with the womenfolk while the others were off on such a fine expedition!... The thirst for adventure was burning in his blood.

When the party left on Monday morning Per Hansa was in a towering ill humour; he rose with the others at dawn, woke Ole, and hitched the oxen to the plow. On that day he broke up an acre and a half of prairie, with only the crude implements at hand—a record that stood for many years in that part of the country.

But at quitting time that night, when he paced around the field and discovered what an enormous day’s work he had done, he felt so elated that he began to whistle the tune of an old ballad.... Just look at that! If they didn’t hurry back, he’d have the whole farm broken up before they arrived.... By God! he’d show them! He’d give them a chance to see for themselves who was the better man!

II

The next day he did not drive himself so hard; but he turned off a good day’s work, just the same.

Per Hansa was again in a good humour that afternoon as he and Ole sauntered home from the field; he felt that during this interval he would easily get ahead of Tönseten. Ole’s tired feet dragged at every step; his voice was hoarse from steadily shouting at the oxen.

They had not got far on their way home when Store-Hans came running out to meet them; he began shouting as soon as he caught sight of them, and arrived all out of breath.

“Dad ... quick ... people are coming!” ...

The news sounded so incredible that Ole stopped short in his tracks and stared at his brother with his mouth wide open, but the father only laughed as he looked indulgently at the boy.

“Of course people are coming!” he said with a chuckle.... “And you’ll grow up to be a man, too, some day—at about the same rate, I guess! You’ve both got a long distance yet to travel.”

But Store-Hans was too excited to be thrown off the track by his father’s kindly sarcasm.