“Perhaps. I don’t think the Indians will be good neighbors if we let them steal. They need to know that they can’t. He would have stolen again.”
“Ah, you’ve studied the Penobscot?”
Johann tried to keep the anger from his voice. “I have stud-ied men.”
“Yes, well. So have I,” Leichter turned to face Johann. “And so has General Waldo. You did right, Herr Oberstrasse. We want to show the savages we are peaceful, but we cannot be peaceful when we are…provoked. You were provoked. We do not tolerate stealing and harassment by our people, or by the savages.” Johann was gratified by the words, but still felt on edge. There was something ominous about Leichter’s manner. “Tell me, since you didn’t have a gun, what did you kill him with?”
“I have a bayonet, from my time in the army.”
“Herr Oberstrasse,” Nungesser broke in, “was a sergeant major for the Landgraf, where he learned to deliver cold, hard steel.”
Leichter raised his eyebrows. “A sergeant major, and yet so young?”
Johann decided to correct only one of the errors. “Not so young,” he said.
Leichter clapped him on the arm. “If you keep charging Indians with only a bayonet, you may never become old.”
Johann shrugged. “A soldier’s habits die hard.”
“They need not die at all, not at Broad Bay. You are, I think, a man who should have a rifle. Would you like that? We have a couple from good German gunsmiths in Pennsylvania. They offer advantages over a bayonet.”
Johann nodded. “We used muskets in the army, but a rifle would be better.”
“I can issue you one, with powder and shot, but you must agree to come to the aid of your neighbors when needed.”
“Of course. I would do so anyway.” None of the men looked at Wagner, but they all had the same thought about the younger man.
“Of course you would. Come to the landing in an hour. We’ll fix you up.”
They left after another round of handshakes. Wagner mumbled another apology. Watching them leave, Johann felt a tingle of excitement as he pulled his mittens on. He would have a rifle, and he could go back for the Indian’s musket. Maybe he should give the musket to Fritz. With the rifle, Johann could hunt for deer, maybe even the very large moose. He would be in debt for the rifle, but for once the prospect of debt didn’t bother him. Was this new world changing him? He wondered. It might be a wonder if it didn’t.
He knew he would have to tell Christiane about the Indian, about the rifle, and that he was going to be a soldier again, at least some of the time. Everyone on the frontier was a soldier, he thought. This time, he’d be fighting for himself and his family, not for the Landgraf or for a foreign prince. That would be better.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
†
“Here, it’s just up here,” Johann said, steering toward the shore. He and Fritz slid from the small boat into the shallow water, then pulled the boat up on land. Johann pointed to a large boulder. “Starting there, and reaching back into the woods. Fifty morgens is maybe fifty rods or so, depending on how wide the riverfront. Right here would be good for a dock.”
Johann reached into the boat for his rifle and Fritz’s musket. He kept the rifle nearby when he was working, and carried it when he left the settlement. As much as Johann hated debt, Leichter had set no due date for payment for the rifle, and they needed it. It took longer to load than a musket, but its accuracy was far superior. He had fired it only enough to learn its ways. Powder and shot were dear, and not available on credit. He had taught Fritz about the musket, but his friend brought it only when Johann reminded him.
The melting of the river ice meant Armstrong would soon be taking cargo to Boston, where the kitchens and fireplaces of the wealthy needed Broad Bay’s firewood. Because the Medomak provided the only way to haul wood, Johann and Fritz swapped some of their wood for the use of Leichter’s boat to travel up where the forest was untouched.
This trip, though, wasn’t for business. With Maifest two days away, Leichter loaned them the boat for free. Today’s load was for the bonfire in front of the shelter. After the long winter, the settlers were more eager to celebrate spring than they ever were back home.
Lifting his hat to scratch his head, Fritz pivoted to view the site. “It looks fine,” he said. “Enough slope that most of it should stay above flooding, but not so much that you can’t farm it. Still,” he squinted into the woods, “it has many trees. Much to clear.”
Johann shrugged. “Yes, but if I’m to become a carpenter, I’ll have a good supply of wood. There are oaks and maples, over there.” The men moved toward the tree line. “The soil,” Johann said. “How is it?”
Fritz reached down and sifted dirt through his fingers. He plunged a knife into the earth. The soil had a yellow cast. He licked a forefinger and used it to carry a few grains of dirt to his tongue, then spat them out. He walked a few paces away and did the same thing. Then again farther from the river.
“Well?” Johann said.
Fritz shook his head and put his hat on. “It’s no better than any around here. Too much clay. Many crops won’t like it. And, like everywhere, many rocks. Potatoes will grow. Cabbages too. The local squash and pumpkins. Maybe the corn of the Indians. And pasture for animals.”
“Good land for a carpenter?” Johann smiled.
“Good land is wasted on a carpenter.”
“Fritz, you don’t like the land, but yet you still plan to farm?”
“I’m a farmer. I’ll make things grow, even here.” The men started back to the boat. “How will you get this parcel? Leichter says they will be assigned, and none are to be this far upriver.”
“Yes, I know. I’ll have to find a way.” He stopped and looked around again, already feeling like the proprietor of this lovely spot. “Why don’t you take a parcel up here? Right over there.” He pointed to adjacent land. “We could start North Broad Bay.”
“If you can arrange it,” Fritz said, “the Bauers will be pleased to join you here.”
Johann wagged a finger at him. “You’ll be glad you did. We’ll need a boat, too, and a sled for the winters.”
“And a horse to pull the sled?”
Johann smiled. “Was I putting the sled before the horse?”
Back on the river, Johann paid little attention to the pale green of the newly-leafed trees. He reviewed the tasks he faced. With the days growing longer, he could get more done, and on Sundays he was helping McDonnell build a boat. For each Sunday of labor, he received a quart of buttermilk and a quart of corn meal, plus he learned how to build a boat. Christiane complained that Johann neglected his soul by working on the Sabbath. He told her that God will understand that he cannot rest.
* * * * * *
For weeks, the rumor had flown through Broad Bay that General Waldo was coming to visit, but he never arrived. Johann could hardly hang around waiting for the man.
Johann and Fritz had just left to cut wood for Maifest when Christiane heard men’s voices outside. Wrapping the baby and pulling Walther away from the sticks he was building into a pile, she stepped through the blankets at the cabin’s entrance. Herr Leichter and two others were listening respectfully to an older man who spoke in English.
“—damned poor job of it, Leichter. What sort of cabin is that?” The man’s voice carried easily. His face was bright red, and his blue eyes shone like marbles. His long hair was tied back in a knot. Neither his clothes nor his tricorn hat was finer than Leichter’s, but his quality was plain in his knee-high boots and walking stick. “For the love of Christ, just look at it. It’s topsy-turvy, leaning every which way. By God, we need to build solid stuff, stuff that will last for years. Not like this.”
“General,” Leichter said in a voice that wasn’t entirely respectful. “This settler arrived last fall and had only days to put this up so his family wouldn’t be in the shelter over the winter. He will build something far stronger this summer, after the land is allocated.”
&nb
sp; “Why isn’t he doing that now? There’s been time since winter?”
“He cuts firewood to trade to Boston. I expect he will then buy supplies and tools and start on a new cabin.”
“You expect, do you? We need to run this settlement on more than your expectations.” Leichter’s lips tightened. Christiane couldn’t follow the English, but she didn’t need words to feel the tension between the blustering general and his agent.
“General,” Leichter said, “we should start out if we’re to reach the parley in time.”
“And what are the chances that the damned savages will be there on time?”
“It’s a mark of respect to be on time. And an insult to be late.”
“Yes, yes, yes. Off we go in those bloody canoes.” Waldo waggled his stick down the path to the settlement. At that moment, his eyes met Christiane’s. She made a small curtsy. He saluted her with his stick and said, “Missus.” After a few strides, he called out to Leichter, “Well, at least they’re a fertile bunch of scoundrels.”
Near the end of the day, as Johann and Fritz rowed a load of wood toward the settlement’s pier, they saw General Waldo’s sloop at anchor in the bay. It flew a banner with an eagle pattern that Johann recognized from the brochure. The banner of the Hereditary Lord of Broad Bay. Men clustered near the pier, staring at a post that had been set in the ground with a paper nailed to it. Johann’s stomach clenched. It must be the land allocation.
When they reached shore, Johann resisted the urge to rush to the notice on the post. He must not seem overeager. He and Fritz carried their load to the lean-to that sheltered firewood to be traded with Armstrong, careful to mark which was theirs. Then, in the fading light, they approached the post.
On the paper, Johann could make out a drawing of Broad Bay, along with the path of the Medomak. The pier and the shelter were marked also. Johann had to wait for the men in front of him to leave before he could see the lines that marked out different land parcels. They looked to be roughly the same size. He couldn’t be sure that they were all as large as fifty morgens, but they might be. Initials appeared on each parcel. He looked for his. He ground his teeth when he found them. That land, he knew, was hilly. And it had no riverfront.
“Do you see yours?” Fritz asked.
“I do.”
“You see,” Fritz pointed, “they allocate no land above here. Nothing near what we were looking at. The settlement won’t reach that far.”
That didn’t mean, Johann thought, that it couldn’t reach that far. “Where is yours?” he asked. Fritz pointed to a parcel to the south, where the land tended to be more level. It had a narrow river front. “I don’t know it,” Johann said.
“Nor I. I’ll be there at sunrise.”
Johann smiled and gripped Fritz on the arm. “You must go and tell Ursula. I’ll get my things from the boat.”
Johann lingered before the map, though the dark was coming on quickly. The last upriver parcel looked to be a mile below the land Johann wanted. So he wouldn’t be taking it from someone else. And he wasn’t afraid of being that far from the other settlers. He turned to look out at Waldo’s coaster. He might row to it, ask to speak with the general and plead for the land. Leichter, he knew, thought tolerably well of Johann. He might even support such a plea. But interrupting a man at his dinner—especially a powerful man like the general—was probably a poor idea.
Johann retrieved his rifle and was halfway to the common fire when he heard voices behind him. Two war canoes were sliding onto the shore. Leichter stepped out of one, splashing in the shallow water. A well-dressed man with fine boots climbed from the other, uttering a series of oaths and groans. That must be the general. Johann walked to the shore and doffed his hat.
“General, sir, good evening,” he said.
“Yes, yes, good evening,” Waldo said. He didn’t look at Johann. He turned to Leichter. “Where the devil’s the launch from the ship? Are we supposed to mill around all night waiting for them to realize we’re here?”
“General, sir,” Johann said. “I can row you out in Mr. Leichter’s boat.”
“That would be most satisfactory,” Waldo said. “Leichter, you might well have thought of that yourself. We’re lucky to find Herr…”
“Oberstrasse, sir. Johann Oberstrasse.” He beckoned the two men. “Please, this way.” Johann pushed the boat into the water, and all three men stepped into it.
“It seems, Herr Oberstrasse, that life in Broad Bay involves a good deal of time with wet feet.”
“I suppose,” Johann agreed, beginning to row but not too fast. “Sir, I hoped to speak with you about the land allocation, on the map.” Even in the dim light, annoyance was plain on the general’s face. “I don’t wish to complain or even to claim any parcel allocated to someone else, but there is a parcel that was assigned to no one that I could make very productive for the settlement and for you.”
“Really, Leichter,” Waldo said without looking at Johann, “perhaps we should have just swum out to the ship.”
“Actually, General,” Leichter said, “Herr Oberstrasse is a valuable settler. He’s the man the chief referred to during the parley, who killed the Indian who was stealing.”
“Indeed.” Waldo took another look at Johann. Meeting his look, Johann rowed with a firmer stroke. “So, you are the sergeant major who runs down Indians with a bayonet?”
“Yes, General.” Johann was uncertain. Was it good that the incident came up during the parley with the Indians? “I hope I haven’t caused a problem.”
Waldo loosed a laugh like a bark. “Quite to the contrary. You’ve managed to get the attention of those savages, shown that some of our people have some actual backbone. The savages, it seems, call you ‘Snow Runner.’” Leichter nodded in agreement. “I must tell my recruiters in Germany to find more sergeant majors.”
“Your Excellency,” Johann said, “the spot I mentioned is upriver from the parcels that have been allocated. It’s almost a mile beyond the last one. As I said, I think I could make it much more productive than the parcel my family was assigned.”
Waldo cocked his head. “You’d be exposed to attack by the savages.”
“Ach, that will only be for a short time,” Johann said. “This land will fill up swiftly. Such rich land. There will soon be settlers all around that parcel. Another man here, Fritz Bauer, is willing to bring his family to join us on an adjacent parcel.”
This time Waldo’s laugh carried something close to warmth. “Leichter,” he cried, “we have a man after my own heart. He understands that Broad Bay will bloom with ever more men and women.” He said to Johann, “Sergeant Major, you shall have the land you request, though only fifty morgens of it, and subject to approval by Herr Leichter, of course. You will be Broad Bay’s first line of defense against the savages.”
“That’s why I have the rifle.” Johann nodded to the rifle on the floor of the boat.
“Leichter,” the general said, “you will manage this.”
“I’m sure Herr Oberstrasse and I will come to an agreement. We’ll draw up the deeds in the morning.”
“Very well,” Waldo said. “Say, Oberstrasse is such a mouthful. If my German doesn’t fail me, that translates to Overstreet.”
“I’m not certain, Excellency,” Johann said. “I think perhaps it would be ‘high street’ in English.”
“Highstreet. I don’t like that. Too commercial. So long as you’re going to be Broad Bay’s strong right arm, why not take the land in the name of Overstreet? That has a solid English ring to it.”
* * * * * *
In the morning, Johann and Fritz met Leichter at the landing. They rode upriver in Leichter’s boat and walked off the boundaries for both parcels, marking them with piles of stones. Leichter wrote up the deeds when they returned to the pier. “Shall it be John Overstreet, then?” he asked Johann. “If you’re becoming an Englishman, you might as well go all the way.”
Johann shrugged his agreement and signed the new name
.
After hurrying to the cabin, he presented the deed to Christiane, who traced his new signature with her finger. “So,” she said, “we are all Overstreet now?”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“Walther Overstreet,” she said. “Hanna Overstreet. They’re good names.” She thought for a moment. “You have no regret—John—to lose your name?”
He smiled. “You call me Johann.”
“And I am Frau Overstreet?”
“Mrs. Overstreet, I think.”
She grinned at him.
He put the deed in his leather pouch with their coins and stashed it below the sleeping surface in the cabin. Flushed with excitement, he insisted that Christiane and the children come to see their new land. He carried Walther through the path along the river, then through the woods when the path played out. Christiane followed with Hanna.
At the site, he held his hand out like a performer in a show, then swept into a bow. “Mrs. Overstreet,” he said, “welcome to our land. The land of the Overstreets.”
Christiane took a few steps and scanned the area while he described the boundaries, then pointed out where Fritz and Ursula would be. Turning in place, she said, “It’s beautiful.”
Johann set Walther down and strode along the shore to show the far boundary, then into the woods, then back. He lifted Walther, whose happy noises matched his father’s mood. “Look, Walther,” he said, his eyes greedily taking in the land and trees. “I think it’s more than fifty morgens. More like sixty, don’t you think? Just have a look.”
Christiane walked to a stand of firs. Vines trailed under the trees, showing pink and white blossoms. She leaned down to smell them, drawing Walther’s curiosity. When he came over, she snapped one off and held it up to his nose, showing him how to sniff it.
“They call these mayflowers,” she called to Johann, who hadn’t moved, transfixed to be standing on his own land. “Let’s call this Mayflower Hof.”
“Why not Mayflower Farm?” Johann said.
She stood and shook her head. “No, Mayflower Hof. To remind us of our old home.”
The New Land Page 11