Chapter III: The Pilgrimage to the Settlement (2)

"Are they making no railroads, no canals, hereabouts? There's always plenty of money when they are going on."

"Half a dollar a day, and on wet days they don't work. Payments are made monthly in paper money, and if one afterwards loses the fourth part only, one must think one's self lucky."

"But handicraftsmen are well paid here, are they not?" asked the tailor.

"Paid!" exclaimed another, laughing ironically, out of the open door. "I'm a tailor, and I've worked for two months past for my board."

"But, my good people," said the little fellow, dolefully, "why, it must be dreadful here in America, then. What is one to do?"

"It's not so bad as the people make out," interposed a farmer, who now joined them, and whose clean clothes and white fine linen bespoke a certain easiness of circumstances. "It's not so bad," he repeated, "only you must not suppose that roast pigeons fly about, crying, 'come eat me!' First learn the ways and customs, first learn the language of the country, and you'll work yourself into the whole system of the people with whom you have to mix. Only don't stop in the towns; out into the country, become countrymen, breed cattle; if you have to work for small wages at first, what matter; every man must pay his apprenticeship-fee, and don't suppose that you can escape doing that here. If for a year, or even two, things go ill with you, don't abuse the country and the people directly; no one drops from the sky a master ready-made, and good work must bide good time."

"Well, that sounds reasonable," said the brewer; "there's no great lamentation about the matter, nor does he overpraise the thing; so there's some hope left, that, after awhile, we may earn something on our land."

"Bought already?" said the farmer.

"Yes; a whole company."

"Good land?"

"It's said to be very good; we haven't seen it yet."

"And bought already; well, that is old-countryman like; the Americans don't do things that way; they see the land first, and then they don't always buy it exactly; they go on Congress land, which they have to pay for in a couple of years, and with their ready money buy cattle; that doubles its value in three years, and is as good as thirty-three or forty per cent. Where is your land, then?"

"In Tennessee, on a small river which they call Big Halchee, or something like that; they've got such break-jaw names here."

"Big Halchee?" said the farmer--"that is a creek, a brook merely; but the land there is said to be good. 'Tis unhealthy, it is true."

"The deuce it is!" exclaimed the shoemaker, startled. "Dr. Normann told us it lay in the healthiest part of the State."

"Well, then, it must be a long way up the Creek."

"I don't know what you mean by crick," grunted the brewer; "the place is said to be fifteen miles from the Mississippi, and there are some houses upon it."

"Very likely," said the farmer; "I was never up the country there. And when are you going?"

"Now, directly."

"Now? In August? Well then, I wish you joy of the fever," said the farmer, laughing, drank the glass of cider which he had called for, and went off up the street.

The brewer meanwhile ordered some beer, growled something about nonsensical stuff, fever, fiddlestick, old women's tales, and so on, and then wandered off with his comrades higher up into the town.

"Well," said the shoemaker, at last, stopping near a shoemaker's workshop--"if that isn't curious; I begin to think that all the shoemakers in Cincinnati are confectioners. Only look now at the gingerbread and sugarcandy in that window there, a whole lot of it; the few pairs of shoes only seem to be hung beside by way of ornament."

"A pretty sort of ornament, indeed," grinned the tailor. "The shoemaker is right, though; honeycakes and leather must agree well together here; but perhaps it isn't a shoemaker's."

"Not a shoemaker's!" bawled the other, peevishly. "I should think I ought to know a shoemaker when I see one. Don't you see him hammering away, yonder, between the honeycake and the pink child's-shoe."

"Yes, sure enough," said the little man; "it must be the custom here, then; opposite yonder is another, and he has got a whole box of ready-made[6] shoes standing before his door."

"Hallo! he must have been a hard-working fellow," exclaimed the shoemaker, in astonishment, on perceiving the number of shoes set up in a large box; "and upon my word all made with little wooden pegs, too--they don't appear to sew here at all."

"Where shall we go to this evening?" asked the brewer. "I wish there was something to be seen here."

"Another striped pig, perhaps?" suggested Schmidt.

"Nonsense," growled the other. "But, I say, the Museum yonder, in that wide street where the red lantern is hanging, is said to be well worth seeing. What say you?--shall we go in? It only costs a quarter dollar."

"That would be just one half of all that I am worth," said the tailor.

"Well, I'll pay for you, tailor, if Schmidt will pay for the shoemaker."

"Agreed," replied Schmidt. "I'm willing to stand Sam; only I should like to be shaved first, for my beard feels very prickly--but I have not seen a sign of a bason[7] anywhere, although I've been constantly looking for one."

"There are some Germans; perhaps they can tell us where a barber is to be found."

"Walk down here till you come to the first red-and-white painted pole, that's a barber's shop."

"What! a little pole with a gilt knob at the top?" asked Schmidt.

"Yes, there are five or six of them in this street."

"Well, that is a curious sign for a barber," said the shoemaker; "I've been puzzling my brains all day to find out what those poles could mean."

They soon arrived at one of these shops, whence the cheerful notes of a fiddle issued towards them. Schmidt went in, while the rest employed themselves outside in noticing the passers-by, and in looking into the different shop windows; but they had not waited long, before Schmidt, with his face all over lather up to his eyes, came running out again, clapped his hat on his head, and fled.

The three burst into a roar of laughter, and other people also stopped to see what was the matter.

But Schmidt, who perhaps was a little ashamed, quickly wiped the soap off with his handkerchief, and turned aside into a side street, whither his comrades followed him.

"What, in the name of wonder, has happened to you?" asked the brewer.

"Nothing," said Schmidt; "I was a jackass; but I got such a fright when I saw that tall black fellow with the razor."

"The _black_ fellow?" asked the tailor.

"Yes," said Schmidt. "When I went in, I sat myself down with my face to the door, and a little white boy lathered me, while at the back of the shop, behind a sort of curtain, somebody was performing beautifully on a fiddle; it went so fast, that one could not distinguish the different notes. When my face had been lathered, the playing suddenly stopped, and before I was aware of it, one of those negro fellows that run about the streets here by dozens--a big, dangerous-looking fellow, with great goggle eyes, and a shining razor in his hand--approached me. I suppose that he was going to shave me, but I was so startled that up I jumped, tore the napkin off my neck, caught up my hat, and was out of the house like lightning; they must have had a good laugh at me."

"Didn't they just laugh!" said the shoemaker; "the black stepped into the doorway, and grinned till it looked as though his two rows of teeth stretched from ear to ear. But it was stupid of you, Schmidt; he wouldn't have cut your head off."

"Oh, I know that well enough, only I was so taken aback at the first moment; the fellow looked so grim. What am I to do now?"

"Why, go into some other barber's shop, for you must not show yourself in that one again on any account; it's as well that we leave here to-morrow morning. There's one down yonder."

Schmidt followed this advice, and went through the operation this time, but declared positively, that he had again fallen into the hands of a black.

When this matter had been disposed of, they wandered slowly down Main-street again, and got entrance tickets for the Museum.

There we must leave them, and follow another section of the travelling companions--viz., the two Sieberts, Pastor Hehrmann, Becher, and Herbold, who had likewise walked up into the town, and had sought out a chemist and druggist named Strauss, to whom they were recommended by Dr. Normann. He received them in a very friendly manner, and in the afternoon took a walk with them. Mr. Strauss had not been long in America himself, but had lived nearly the whole time in Cincinnati, and appeared to have made himself pretty well acquainted with the state of affairs there; he did not praise the place much, and showed a disposition to remove westward. Siebert immediately tried to gain him over for their colony, but was unable to induce him to promise anything certain, although the idea of quitting Cincinnati did not seem to be a difficulty. He inquired with much interest into the plans and prospects of his countrymen, but shook his head several times very doubtfully, when the relators got into what he called their "castles in the air." He had known Dr. Normann for some years, and inquired with much interest after all that related to him.

"To be candid with you," he said, at last, "I don't altogether trust that gentleman."

"How so?" exclaimed Mr. Siebert, in some alarm.

"Well, he has told me such stories about inventions which he pretends to have made, some of which are really ridiculous; brags so much of Republican-American sentiments, and altogether plays the part of such an extraordinarily clever and wonderfully rich man, that I have become somewhat distrustful of him, the more particularly, because, as far as regards the latter assumption, I have strong proofs to the contrary; but I may be mistaken; he may be a very honourable man, and a clever one he certainly is."

Thus conversing about one thing and the other, they had wandered through most of the streets of the town, and had returned to Main-street again, when Strauss suddenly stopped before a low, wide building, with a wooden staircase, and said--

"By the bye, we were talking, this morning, about the politics of the Germans here; would you like to attend a German political meeting this evening?"

"Willingly," they all said; "where is it held?"

"Just here, where we are standing, in the house of a fellow-countryman, of course, who, besides, keeps very good beer. Cincinnati is, moreover, the Munich[8] of North America. But here is the place; and, as I hear, the speechifying has commenced----"

They walked in, and found a pretty numerous assemblage of Germans, who were mostly sitting round a table, talking together in a very animated manner, and only ceasing when one of them, by rattling a tin can, intimated a wish to address the assembly.

The election of President was at hand, and the Democrats were trying their utmost to get the Democrat Polk elected President; whilst the Whigs were noways behind hand in _their_ exertions in opposition, and to carry their candidate to the Capitol at Washington. But, instead of being satisfied with praising their own respective candidates, and placing them in the most favourable light, both parties were chiefly engaged in blackening the character of the man put forward by the opposite party, in such a dreadful manner, that if what they said were true, no respectable dog could have accepted a piece of bread at his hands.

In such a meeting they now found themselves, and the settlers had already listened with great attention to the addresses of various orators, whose words were frequently interrupted by shouts of approbation, and rewarded by thunders of applause.

"It must be admitted," said Becher, when, after awhile, they had walked up and down outside the house to cool themselves--"it must be admitted that they have a peculiar way of speaking here--such violent abuse of one man, whose only offence appears to be, that their opponents wish to make him President; their style would not suit my taste; however, different countries, different manners; probably the Whigs are not much better."

"Worse still, if possible, worse still," said Strauss, laughing. "But could you understand all that the people inside there were saying?"

"Well," replied Pastor Hehrmann, "I have listened pretty attentively, but I cannot say that I comprehended everything; some of their sentences seemed very bombastic."

"Yes," Becher interrupted him; "now that you mention it, I think I could also affirm that those portions of the speeches which the people applauded most loudly, contained nothing further than very vague ideas; the good folks seem easily satisfied."

"Will you believe me," smiled Strauss, "that I will go in and talk nonsense for five minutes--nonsense, pure barefaced nonsense--and that at the conclusion it shall be hailed with loud plaudits?"

"Well, I don't think them quite so bad as that comes to, either," said Pastor Hehrmann, with a deprecating shake of the head; "they are actuated with the best intentions--viz., that of having the affairs of the republic, in which they live, managed as well as possible; and if they are not exactly learned men, still they probably can distinguish sense from nonsense."

"Well," said Strauss, "we can make the experiment. Come in with me; only keep serious; that's all I ask of you."

The meeting was powerfully excited by a speech which had just been made. Here and there violent blows of fists upon the table testified what strength their owners were capable of using should they be called upon to combat for the right cause, and all of them were talking and hallooing together.

Strauss had to rattle the tin can several times; at last the excitement abated a little, and the new orator stood upon a chair.

"Gentlemen,"--he now began, after casting a searching glance round the circle, and making some very long pauses, particularly in the commencement, as though he were overcome by his feelings, until at last, by degrees, he got into full swing, as Mr. Becher afterwards observed, and pursued the thread of his discourse with more animated words and gesticulations,--"It is with satisfaction--that I do myself the honour--of standing up in this place--which it would be impossible to express. I see that you are determined to remain true to your former well-tried and honourable opinions. I see the fire of courage and of patriotism beaming in your eyes. I see that you will not bow down again under that yoke which you have but recently shaken off, together with the old country, your former home." (No, no, no! from several parts of the room.)--"Gentlemen, it is not only necessary that we should show firm resolution in the exertions which we have attained by the perseverance of our dear fellow-countrymen, and with iron determination refuse to join a party which tries to frighten us by trickery and bragging; no, we must also, conscious of our worth, in the hope of real and irresistible conviction, endeavour to carry out that feeling which inflames us with holy ardour, that feeling for justice and freedom which is a birthright of Germans!" (Bravo! bravo! from all sides.)--"Gentlemen," Strauss, becoming warmer, now proceeded--"you have an internal conviction of the words of truth. Although British gold and selfish opinions may oppress a portion of this holy republic, although tyranny and oppression may threaten with chains and sharpened swords, have you ever been dismayed? Did you not return gloriously and triumphantly from the former battle?" (Hurrah for Strauss! hurrah!)--"Yes, my dear fellow-countrymen, you understand my feelings, but you also know, as I do, that a party cannot triumph in whose hearts a participation in deceit and seductive appearances has taken root, whose independence and convictions are attacked by venal brokers and agents, in which the blind fanaticism of thousands aimed at a height which, by chimerical hopes and impressions, composed of promises and deceptions, sought in vain to attain that goal which comes to meet and bless an honest heart." (Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah for Strauss! the crowd exclaimed, and the rejoicing and clattering of drinking vessels for some moments drowned every other word.) "No, no, and no, again I say," continued Strauss, as soon as the noise had abated a little. "When the heart does not with loud throbs throw itself into the arms of liberty,--when strength does not stretch out its powerful hands into one great alliance--where talent and knowledge do not work together with firm and inflexible unanimity, where, during generations, evil has not been held in contempt and good honoured--of what avail are the fine-drawn nets of the hypocrites, who appear to spread their yarns with cunning fingers? Let them spread them, let them contrive--the tricksters! let the nets become closer and closer daily, which are to conceal their guilt with an easily rent and transparent covering. Let them rejoice in their vileness--let them, with gnashing teeth, defile the throne of truth, which is firmly wound round the hearts of our party with twenty-handed arms! Let them go on patiently. But as for us, I point with luminous finger to the oriflamme of youthful Immortality--for us, I say, away, away with cunning and false shame! away with fraud, away with false appearances! We, my brothers, are German democrats, and let our motto be, 'German perseverance and German truth!'"

"Hurrah!" screamed the crowd once more, in ear-piercing chorus, as Strauss descended from the chair, and several approached, and shook hands with him in a friendly manner.

Pastor Hehrmann, however, had quietly gone out as soon as the speech was concluded; the rest now followed him; and Strauss, as soon as he joined them, smilingly asked them whether he had been as good as his word.

"Deuce take it!" exclaimed Becher, "but that was a capital speech; and how pleased they were with it!"

"That was nothing," whispered Strauss; "there were too many of the 'honourables' there, and one must not lay it on too thick with them. But the other day I was in my element; they called upon me for a speech, and I talked such stuff to them that at last I began to be ashamed myself. At the conclusion I compared _our_ president to a comet, and said, that 'as the latter the more it stretches backward the broader it becomes, so shall we in our progress grow and increase in strength, till, like a brilliant comet in the night sky of the opposite party, we shall break our way shining and flaming to the zenith of the firmament.' You should have heard the applause; and the lacemaker from down in Front-street, who has made a couple of thousand dollars or so, and therefore considers himself a wonderfully clever fellow--but who, I may observe in passing, is a dreadful Whig and a blockhead, and had only come to our meeting to hear what was going forward,--went away, saying, 'It's all very well, anybody can deal in abuse.'"

"But I don't consider it right to mystify the people in such a way as to their feelings; why not speak to them in clear distinct words? why not endeavour to strengthen them in pure unadulterated truth?"

"Mr. Hehrmann," said Strauss, becoming more serious, "I could answer that question by another, but we will confine ourselves to what is political. You dare not do it; no one would listen to you at last, and the people would say, 'He will only tell us what we know well enough already,' whether they know it or not. No, to be a Mentor of the people, I, for one, shall not aspire; but if they will be made fools of it's their own fault. If they would only learn to _think_ before they would _abuse_, all that would not happen; but you may convince yourself, from every individual, with a few exceptions, that what I say is correct. Thousands of my worthy fellow-countrymen, some of whom even pass for political luminaries, know and understand as little of American politics as most German reviewers know of the books which they review. They just cast a glance into them, and criticize away.

"The Germans here follow the multitude, and many of our German Tom Noddys, who with puffed-up cheeks look down upon their poorer countrymen, although they themselves, but a few months before, scarcely had salt to their bread, become Whigs; because they now come in contact with rich Americans who are Whigs, and who see through these addle-heads, flatter them, and lead them by the nose so long as they want to make use of them. You cannot conceive what a contemptible animal is one of these German parvenus who has become rich. But it is getting late, and we had better go to bed; farewell, therefore, until to-morrow; I'll come round to the boat before it starts."

The settlers followed the advice of the apothecary, and, wearied with the constant wandering about, retired to rest. Pastor Hehrmann, however, continued silently to walk up and down the deserted deck in deep musing, till weariness overcame him also, and he laid himself down, wrapped in his cloak, beside the little cabin of the pilot, there in the open air, to await the rising sun.

The dawn was yet contending with the increasing light of the young day, and the crew, who had been busy at work cleaning the various decks, had just concluded their labours, when the door of one of the sleeping apartments in the ladies' cabin opened, and the pastor's elder daughter stepped out into the fresh morning air, to greet the first rays of the awakening day. The neighbourhood, still and pleasant, lay before her; the river murmured and splashed lightly against the sides of the boat; fishes leaped out of the water; single boats, with snow-white sails, glided quickly across the stream, and all nature rested, overspread with such a lovely charm, that the dear and good girl gently folded her hands, and with her clear eyes turned toward the equally pure sky, prayed inwardly.

"Good morning, Bertha!" whispered a voice, softly; and the maiden started back, exclaiming "Oh!" with a glad voice--but she receded still farther, pale and frightened, when she saw the sharp eyes of Dr. Normann fixed upon her with a keen though friendly expression. He now climbed quickly over the paddle-box down to the gallery of the ladies' cabin, and approached the young girl, who timidly drew back, exclaiming, reproachfully--"Doctor, you must have mistaken the place."

"No, my dear Bertha," said the doctor, seizing her hand, which she, half mechanically, let him do. "No, I do not mistake, but the boat will leave in a few hours, and I myself cannot leave Cincinnati, on account of business, until the expiration of some weeks. It is therefore not possible for me to part from you thus, without having first declared myself."

Bertha would have withdrawn her hand, but he would not let her, but continued, more passionately,

"Bertha, there is no time now to choose convenient times and places; I am on the point of losing you. You must, during the whole time you have known me, have remarked with what devotion I love you."

"Sir!" said Bertha, alarmed.

"Do not take away this hand from me," the doctor continued, with ardent looks; "do not reject the heart of one who is capable, nay, the whole wish of whose soul is to make you happy; do not turn your dear face away; say at least that you are not angry with me."

"Leave me, sir, I beg of you," said the girl, who was now really alarmed; "I can give you no hopes to encourage feelings which I cannot reciprocate."

"I have startled you, Bertha, have I not?" asked the doctor; "you are angry with me on that account."

"I am not angry with you; no, do not misunderstand me; you have been so disinterestedly obliging to my parents, and to the whole company, that I cannot help giving you my whole esteem."

"Oh! why that cold word--esteem?" said Normann.

"Do not demand more; I cannot, I dare not, ever feel more, I----"

"You love another; you love yonder young man, who----"

"Sir," said the otherwise so-retiring girl, drawing herself up proudly, "I believe that I am not bound to give any account of my feelings to you." With these words, she endeavoured to go back on the gallery, in order to return into the cabin, whither the doctor dared not have followed her, but he barred her passage, and said, in a low tone, but gravely: "Bertha, I love you--love you with a passion that startles even myself. Bertha, you _must_ be mine; do not rob me of every hope; say, at least, that you may, one day."

"Sir, you will oblige me to call for assistance if you do not let me go. You cannot hope to force me to love you? Farewell; _if_ we ever meet again, may this conversation be forgotten by both of us. I bear no ill-will towards you."

With these words, she stepped past the doctor, who no longer sought to detain her, but looked darkly after her, and then murmuring something between his teeth, quickly regained the upper deck; without looking round, he jumped off the other side of the paddle-box in a bound or two on to the lower deck of the boat, strode over the plank, and disappeared in a few minutes more among the buildings of the town.

The Captain was as good as his word, as to their early departure; it was not yet seven o'clock when his bell sounded for the first time, and soon after, the mooring ropes were got in. Strauss, who wished to take leave of his new friends, could scarcely press their hands, before the engines began to work, and in a very short time more, the boat panted, hissing and foaming, down the stream towards the father of the waters--the Mississippi.

At breakfast, all the 'tween deck passengers assembled in the lower deck, but they were not a little astonished on finding that Dr. Normann had disappeared so mysteriously without taking leave. Pastor Hehrmann, it is true, might have given them some explanation, for he had been an unintentional spectator from the upper, or so-called hurricane deck, of the whole interview between his daughter and the doctor; but the latter, in hurrying off, had not observed Hehrmann, and as his daughter said nothing on the subject, the pastor determined not to allude in any way to what had taken place.

"What can have become of the doctor!" exclaimed Becher, when he had been sought for everywhere, and the conviction forced itself upon them that he was not on board. "This morning I saw him running hastily into the town. I called after him, too, but he either did not, or would not hear me."

"Probably," suggested the elder Siebert, "he went to look after something or other, and did not think that the boat would start so soon. Is his luggage still on board?"

"If I am not much mistaken, he carried that under his arm," replied Becher, "but I will not positively affirm it."

M. Von Schwanthal now gave a different turn to the conversation as well as to the thoughts of the settlers, by describing the Museum--where, on the preceding evening, he had fallen in with our four-leaved shamrock, Schmidt, the shoemaker, the tailor, and the brewer,--in such a droll manner, that all assembled round him.

"They call it a Museum of Natural History," he said, laughing; "a couple of cupboards full of stuffed birds, and hideous drawn-out beasts, are the only things that belong to natural history in the place; but there are plenty of other things; for example, mammoth's bones, Indian weapons and dresses; a cuirass, picked up after the battle of Waterloo, on which, if I mistake not, the hero's blood yet sticks; a French postillion's boot--the latter was shown as something particularly curious; a piece of steam-boiler that had burst and was blown from the steamer, I don't know how many hundred yards, upon the shore; snakes in spirits-of-wine; and, above all things, a horrible room-full of relics of criminals; ropes and nightcaps of people who have been hanged; awfully distorted heads of malefactors in spirits; hands and feet cut off; knives and axes, with which deeds of murder have been done, and on which the blood may yet be seen. Pish! a shudder runs through me at the very thought of it."

"And then the large dolls," said the tailor.

"Yes, splendid wax-figures, representing nothing but tales of murder and robbery, and then such attitudes! One thing amused me very much; under a glass-case there stood a kind of machine, put together of iron and brass wheels: it is true it was immovable, but below was a label pasted on it, whereon was written, 'Perpetuum mobile.'"

"And the last was pretty, too," said the shoemaker, who could not conceive why the Committee laughed at this; "there came in one of these negroes, and threw a whole lot of plates in the air, and danced about underneath them without letting one fall to the ground."

"But how about 'Hell?'" smiled Von Schwanthal, glancing sideways at the brewer; the other three burst out into a hearty laugh.

"Well," said the brewer, rather vexed, "I should like to know who would not have been startled. They've got a concern there which they call Hell, a whole room-full of devils, poor souls, snakes, and I don't know all what. On one side there was a railing, so I leant quietly against it, and was looking at a tall skeleton that stood close beside me and had frightful claws; but while I was thinking of nothing of the kind, it turned suddenly round and sprang right at me--it looked horrid."

"The brewer did not make a bad jump either," Von Schwanthal continued, taking up the narrative; "but unfortunately he alighted upon the corns of an old lady, who began to abuse him soundly."

"She must have been a German," said the brewer; "for though she spluttered out nothing but English gibberish, yet the first word she said was 'Rindvieh.' (brute or ox, lout,) I understood that."

"That wouldn't be difficult for you," tittered the tailor.

Siebert, senior, had meanwhile looked round once more after Dr. Normann, but without being able to see or hear anything of him, and the emigrants had to comfort themselves with the fact, that he had promised to visit them very shortly in their new settlement. For the moment, also, their senses were too much occupied with the present, in seeing all that was new, which glided past them, sometimes on the river, sometimes on the shore, and as the weather was warm and beautiful, they spent the greater part of the day, as of the night, on deck.

Bertha, after the doctor left the boat, had given vent to her distressed feelings, in her lonely berth, by a healing flood of tears; but determined on concealing the conversation which had taken place from her parents, in order not to trouble them unnecessarily, and at breakfast she appeared collected and almost cheerful.

The boat pursued its course with rushing speed down stream, and already, on the second evening, reached the mouth of the Ohio, the little town of Cairo, at the south-west angle of Illinois State. But here the passengers had the mortification to discover that they were to be removed into another boat--"the Orinoco," upon one of the largest of the Mississippi steamers, as the smaller, "Dayton," hoped to do more business on the Ohio, which just then could not be conveniently navigated by the larger vessels, by reason of the want of water. But they did not experience much inconvenience in the matter, for the little vessel laid herself close alongside of the larger one, and in less than three hours all was ended, and their position was at the same time considerably improved, as well as regards room as convenience.

Now, therefore, they found themselves, for the first time, on the mighty Mississippi River; Pastor Hehrmann gazed gloomily out upon the yellow surface of its waters, which with headlong rapidity rolled themselves down in enormous breadth between its flat banks.

"And I had pictured to myself such a lovely idea of this mighty Mississippi!" he murmured to himself; "and now it looks so desert and wild, so malicious and spiteful: many a thing loses its charm when it is looked at near at hand."

The remaining settlers seemed less unpleasantly surprised by the grand surface of water which spread itself out before them.

"That's something like a river!" said the tailor; "one almost feels as though one were going to sea again; I really should not know which way to steer to get down it."

"It's a good job the pilot isn't quite so stupid," said the shoemaker, and the little one probably concurred in this view, for he simply nodded his head.

But the weather did not continue so favourable as it had been. From the other side of the river, from above the close tree-tops, dark heavy masses of cloud rolled themselves on towards them, spread all over the sky, and made the neighbourhood look yet more dreary and more forbidding. Now and then single clouds discharged their loads of water, and the rain streamed down at those moments with such fearful force that the people in the boat, which rushed through it, felt quite anxious and frightened. But while they were sitting in the dry and tolerably comfortable space of the lower deck, awaiting the clearing up of the weather, the by no means agreeable cry of "wood aboard! wood aboard!" was heard through the boat, and, well or ill, _all_ had to turn out, for _all_ had engaged, when they paid less passage-money than they otherwise would have done, to help to carry the wood for the firing of the boat. A certain Republican spirit had prompted them not to shrink from a kind of work which some other passengers who travelled with them did not shun. It is true that they had not taken into account that their clothes were not suitable, and that they possessed neither the practice nor the endurance required to bear, without grumbling, a hardship which they now discovered was none of the lightest.

The evening set in; it became dark, and rained as though the skies were coming down; and during several hours they had to clamber up the steep and slippery river-bank, about twenty or thirty feet in height, and get down again with three or four heavy pieces of cordwood on their shoulders, in doing which they not unfrequently slipped and fell, and sometimes hurt themselves considerably without receiving any comfort in return, except that, when after three hours' work, they went on board again, tired and worn out, with torn and soiled clothes, they were laughed at into the bargain by the crew of the "Orinoco." In return for this, and for a repetition of the same work two or three times more, they saved a dollar per man on the whole voyage.

The next day was not much better; the weather remained dull and rainy, and the wood-carrying had to be done twice more; but they were now hourly approaching nearer and nearer to the object of their journey, and the captain told Siebert, senior, who spoke English, that he should land them about one in the morning at the mouth of the Big Halchee.

"Do you know the place?" asked Siebert.

"No, I do not; but the pilot thinks it is a little creek of that name, and lies between Randolph and the northern boundary of Tennessee."

"What is the name of the town at the mouth of it, then?"

"Town!--there's no town at the mouth."

"No town! Well, then, some little place?"

"Yes; a cordwood-chopper lives there with his family, if he has not moved away yet. Those people are always on the move."

"Strange!" grumbled Siebert to himself; but the idea did not seem to please him, that only a solitary wood-cutter should occupy the mouth of their river; for he concluded, not unreasonably, that many settlers must have located themselves there, had the watercourse been of any magnitude; he said nothing about it, however. And now preparations commenced in earnest for getting ready all their cargo of valuables, in order not to be detained too long with the unloading when the boat should land. It was unpleasant, of course, that it should rain and be dark when they reached the place of their destination, but that could not be helped; all were glad to be so near the goal, and had not the least fear for the future. They were aware, no doubt, that they should have to make shift with the few buildings which they should find upon their farm, but still it was a beginning, and comforts might be obtained by and by.

Night came on--the rain poured down in streams--all nature seemed in agitation; but the mighty boat hissed and hurried through the roaring storm, dashing with its paddles the yellow waves the wilder, towards the steep and loose river hanks, where they broke, so that here and there large lumps of earth were loosened and precipitated with a splash into the flood.

"But we can't land in weather like this," said Von Schwanthal to Siebert, senior; "the captain will have to lie-to until to-morrow morning."

"That he wont;" said Siebert, shaking his head, "we needn't reckon upon that; these captains of steamers are a rough, hardened set of fellows; no, he would put us ashore if it rained pebble-stones."

"If there's only a good tavern not far from the shore we may there await better weather."

"Well, I hope there may be!" sighed Siebert, and went to his box, to cord it and get it ready.

Bustling activity now reigned everywhere among the passengers, but not the best of humours; the weather had put them out, and the greater part of them sat about, grumbling, agitated by uncomfortable feelings, in the corners of the 'tween decks.

Midnight was past, when the bell rang for landing, while the thunder outside accompanied its sound, which echoed far out into the darkness. Not long after a firebrand was swung on the left shore, and the vessel took a sweep in order to lie-to with her stern to the stream; the captain at the same time stepped to the 'tween decks, and cried--

"Big Halchee--who's for the shore?"

The sailors and stokers followed, and seized everything that came to hand, and put it ashore; but not above, at the top of the bank, but close to the river's edge, where about fifteen cords of wood were already piled up. These meanwhile were carried aboard by another portion of the workpeople, and the whole scene was a dreadfully confused and disordered one. Women complained, children cried, men swore; the rain meanwhile actually _flooded_ from the sky, and the women, as well the Hehrmanns as the other families, could only be got up the steep bank of the shore with considerable trouble, where they perceived, by the glare of a pine-torch, a solitary small and low house, the door of which was open, while in the chimney there burned a slightly glimmering fire.

The owner of the house and of the cordwood accompanied them as far as the entrance, and made signs for them to enter. But Siebert, who had previously exchanged a few words with him, whispered, as the latter turned away, "Don't crowd too near the bed; the wife of our host lies there; she died about an hour since!"

There was something so awfully quiet in the words, that Pastor Hehrmann looked round terrified after the American; but he went quietly down to the steamer to receive the price for his wood. There the captain, out of particular civility, had caused an old tarpaulin to be spread over the goods which had been tumbled ashore, and which covering he intended to fetch away on his upward journey: Siebert, however, quickly bought it of him for five dollars, for he now saw how necessary it would be for their use, and then followed the rest into the shanty. All could not have found space in this, even had the dread of the corpse not driven the greater part of them into the most distant part of the room; fortunately, however, there was also a so-called kitchen, or smoking-house, behind the dwelling, and here a great number of the settlers were billetted, at least for the night. Oh, how anxiously all waited the morrow.

It was a fearful night; the storm roared round the house, so that the weak boarding which formed the roof clappered and tumbled, and here and there the rain poured through in streams. The mosquitoes appeared insatiable, and swarmed round the poor tortured ones in an almost unbearable manner. The little children, in particular, alarmed by the novelty of all that surrounded them, would not be quieted, and by their cries increased the strangeness, the unearthliness of their situation; and before them all, still and motionless, careless of mosquitoes, or of any other disturbance, the young woodsman sat beside the bed of his dead wife, which was hung over with a thin mosquito curtain.

Silently he stared into the now bright flaming fire in the chimney, and his left hand all the night through clasped the hand of the corpse. The elder Siebert, it is true, once tried to approach him and to offer consolation, but the unhappy man merely made a sign to him to leave him alone, and stared uninterruptedly into the fire on the hearth. He was beside his wife, and seemed not to remark the presence of the many strangers.

Pastor Hehrmann, seated at the head of the bed where the corpse lay, had collected his family around him, and had spread his large, wide cloak over them, to defend them as well from the annoying insects as from the single drops of rain which penetrated. But, comforting all in their unpleasant position, he concluded a simple but touching prayer, which he spoke aloud, with the words, "May the Almighty make our departure as glad and as happy as our arrival is inauspicious and melancholy."

A loud hearty 'Amen' from every lip replied to this, and then deep silence reigned throughout the house of affliction.

FOOTNOTES:

[5] Fences, in America, are formed of poles of wood, split lengthwise, which ordinarily surround the fields in a zig-zag form, and are intended to preserve the grain from the cattle, which run about freely. In the West, where there is wood in abundance, this arrangement is universal; but in the East, and particularly in the vicinity of towns, they are beginning to raise quickset hedges, or at least to apply the wood in the most economical way, so as to make as little wood as possible surround a great space.--_Note by the Author._

Many old countrymen, upon their first arrival in America, are disgusted with the rail fences, and talk about the quickset hedges which they will have upon their land; but it all ends in talk. Wood is adopted for fences in America, as well because of its abundance as because the white and black thorns, used in quickset hedges in England, although they grow, yet do not generally thrive there; besides, the planting, filling up gaps, pruning, ditching, &c., requires much labour, and that is expensive there. Cattle, also, are so used to the bush, that they would make no difficulty of walking through a quickset hedge, unless it were many years old, and well made. Every man can swing the axe there, and most of their woods grow tall in the stem, without knots or branches, for fifty feet or so, and split readily, sometimes even without the wedge. They therefore cut trees, such as ash, oak, elm, birch, and (for the lower rails, to resist the effects of wet) cedar, into twelve or sixteen feet lengths, and then split them, either with the axe alone, or with the assistance of a mall and wedges, into rails of a convenient thickness. These are laid upon the surface of the ground in zig-zag, as mentioned by the author, each overlapping the other by six inches or so, and so on to the height of from six to twelve feet, and, in well-made fences, stakes are also driven firmly into the ground, near the places where the rails meet, one inside and one outside of the fence, at an inclination towards it, their points meeting and crossing each other at the junction of the top rails, and forming, by such crossing, a receptacle for a heavy rail or rider, as it is called, which tops it all, and serves to give the whole stability; thus all nails and iron-work, which are expensive, or wooden pegs, which would require labour, are dispensed with, and a fence is obtained, having nearly the strength of a brick wall, and capable of restraining cattle. Fences without stakes and riders are also used, especially for temporary purposes, supporting themselves by the zig-zag ground-plan and their own weight, but are liable to be invaded by a breachy ox, and are also more liable to be put out of their position. An ox is, in America, termed "breachy" when he has learned to lift the rails off with his horns, which he does by the ends one after another, like any Christian, until it is low enough for him to step over; but if properly staked and ridered he cannot do so. Such oxen are not very common, but never can be cured of the habit, and however well they may work in the yoke, have to be fattened and killed forthwith. When the two or three lower rails, and also the stakes, are of wood, capable of resisting the effect of damp, such as cedar, black ash, &c., a well-made fence will last for an indefinite number of years, but otherwise seven or eight years suffice to rot the lower rails, and to make constant patching necessary, which is almost as bad as making a new fence, for, to get at one of the lower rails, the fence has to be taken down for many lengths on each side, and never can be relaid so well. In the Canadas, and the Northwestern states of the Union, the ground, during winter, is covered with snow, for a distance of ten degrees and more south of corresponding latitudes in the Old World, and this is the season when the timber is easily got out of the bush, or of the swamps, into the clearings, either on low sleighs, or by being snagged--that is, dragged out by oxen and a logging chain.--TR.

[6] It is not customary for shoemakers in Germany to keep a large stock of shoes; those in the text, of course, were not all made by the seller, but probably in New England, where there are whole towns where nothing else is done. The wooden pegs would surprise an English shoemaker as much as they did the German.--TR.

[7] A brass bason is the German barber's sign--TR.

[8] Munich is celebrated throughout Germany for the goodness of its beer.--TR.