“Will you not plant a green garden? It is not yet June,” Rehnquist suggested, pointing to his selection of seeds.
“Ja, we will,” Karl answered. “We have brought many seeds from home with us.”
Chicken wire. A bag of feed. A dozen chicks.
Sauli lined a box with flannel and lifted the chicks in one at a time. He tacked on a slatted lid, but lightly so it could be easily removed.
As they packed the items and loaded them into the middle wagon, Mr. Rehnquist listed them and their cost on a piece of paper. “Your wives, will they wish to buy dishes also?” he asked.
“Nei,” Karl replied. “We have brought much of that with us. Even my sister-in-law’s cookstove! But we will need a second stove since we will build and live in our barn first. One for heating. And some stove blacking.”
He and Jan looked over the stoves. “This one, I think.” Karl pointed to a square one with a large burn box. Jan agreed. Mr. Rehnquist selected pipe for it while Jan and Karl started to break down the stove.
“Do you have a gun?” Mr. Rehnquist asked. “Do you need shells?”
Karl and Jan looked curiously at the hardware man’s selection of guns and at each other. “Our father has guns we hunted with, but we did not bring any,” Karl answered.
Rehnquist raised his brows. “Ach! You cannot be without guns out on the prairie! You both must have one—perhaps even one for the boy. To hunt, yes, but also for protection.”
“So? Protection from what? Indians?” Karl and Jan both frowned. They had not anticipated this need.
“No, no, that is not likely, but you will surely have coyotes and wolves sniffing around your animals. Those you must shoot. Foxes and weasels, too, although you might trap them and rabbits.”
“And you will want to shoot antelope and quail for meat. You might even see buffalo! Good meat and a very good hide.”
After a long discussion between the two brothers, they selected a shotgun and a rifle. Mr. Rehnquist added bullets and shells for the guns.
Karl pulled at his bottom lip. The costs were piling up—even after eliminating some items on their list. Things were more expensive than they had thought they would be.
Then Jan and Karl began on the lumber. They told Mr. Rehnquist how much of each type of board they wanted and how much black tar paper. After Mr. Rehnquist wrote the order down, Sauli started pulling the lengths. Jan and Karl stacked and carried them out the yard’s gate and laid them into the last wagon in the row.
The lumber wagon was full. The front wagon was nearly so. Karl studied Mr. Rehnquist’s numbers and told the total to Jan.
“And still we need to buy food supplies, eh?” Jan remarked wryly.
“Ah! We almost forgot!” Karl tsked. He turned to Mr. Rehnquist. “Can you recommend a good grocer to us?”
“Surely. Go around that corner two blocks. You will see the sign. It is owned by a German, Evard Koehler. An honest man. You will like him.”
Karl paid the man and thanked him for his excellent service. Jan and Karl took turns shaking hands with Sauli and his father.
Jan cleared his throat. “Your sønn has been a blessing to us, Herr Rehnquist. He is a good boy, a good man already.” Jan said this in front of Sauli because he wanted the young man to hear what he said.
Jan turned to Sauli. “You have earned a good wage today.” Jan placed a quarter in Sauli’s hand. “We thank you.”
The boy glowed under Jan’s praise and clasped the coin eagerly. His father smiled with pride.
“Come, Søren!” Jan called. “We’ll take all this to the train now, eh?”
Søren was glad to get underway. He had spent two hours in the late afternoon sun minding the oxen. Now he took up reins—his far had said he could drive the empty wagon behind them to the rail yards! In reality, his wagon’s oxen were still tethered to the wagon in front of his.
Karl pulled ahead of them in the lumber wagon and set a sedate pace. Jan followed with the front wagon. Søren waved goodbye to Sauli and called to his oxen. They moved out smartly behind Jan.
The Thoresens labored for another two hours unloading the wagons and packing their purchases in the freight cars. They stacked much of it into the first car atop their other cargo.
All the lumber went into one end of the second car except for some lengths Karl kept back. Jan found the crate with the tools and nails and kept it back, too. Then Karl and Jan set to work building a sturdy fence across the car separating the lumber from the rest of the car.
The fence was nose high to the oxen, high enough and strong enough to keep the lumber on one side and the oxen on the other. The six oxen would have two-thirds of the car to travel in.
Finally, they unhitched the oxen and led them into a pen. Jan paid a man to feed and water the beasts. The freight master assured them that the oxen and wagons would be safe overnight.
It was dusk when the three Thoresens dragged themselves back to the boardinghouse, exhausted and hungry. Even after eating a hearty dinner, Jan closed his eyes against a bad headache.
Elli saw him frown and rub his eyes. She stood behind his chair and gently massaged his temples. “Amalie and I have our list ready,” she whispered, nuzzling the back of his neck.
“Ja, that’s good,” he replied. He leaned his head back and rested it on her bosom, breathing in her sweet scent. “Don’t fret, my love. I will be better in the morning. It has just been a long day.”
~~**~~
Chapter 5
The next morning began a little more leisurely. After a large breakfast, Karl read to them from the family Bible. But when they thought Karl had finished reading, he turned to Proverbs and read aloud:
Trust in the Lord with all thine heart;
and lean not unto thine own understanding.
In all thy ways acknowledge him,
and he shall direct thy paths.
They all knew that the most challenging times were still ahead. “Lord, thank you for directing our paths,” Jan prayed. “We trust you and lean on you.”
Jan and Karl felt refreshed when they walked back to the rail yard. They opened the pen and led two of the oxen out. Together they placed the yoke across the beasts’ muscular necks.
When the team was hitched to one of their wagons, Jan and Karl drove it back to the boardinghouse. Karl helped Elli, Amalie, and the three children into the back, and they set out for the grocer Herr Rehnquist had recommended.
An hour and a half later the last of the foodstuffs had been loaded in the wagon: Burlap bags filled with wheat, dried beans, dried peas, dried corn, onions, potatoes, and cabbages. Crocks of butter, jars of honey, jugs of vinegar. Cans of lard. Bags of salt, sugar, and coffee beans. Cans of baking soda, cream of tartar, and yeast cakes. Jars of pickles, peaches, and tomatoes. Wheels of cheese wrapped in clean cloths. Ropes of sausages and a great log of bologna. A crate of eggs padded in sawdust.
Jan and Karl wrestled a heavy barrel into the wagon. Packed inside it were two hams. Packed above the hams were carefully wrapped slabs of bacon.
Back in the store, Jan asked, “What are these?” He had spied half dozen green sprigs, not even eight inches high, their roots tied up in damp burlap.
“Apfel baum,” Mr. Koehler replied.
Apple saplings! Jan stared at them. “Søren?”
“They are fifty cents, Pappa. Half a dollar each.”
“So much!” Jan was torn. Their money was dwindling quickly.
“I tell you what,” Mr. Koehler said, “You are a good customer. You are buying a lot from me today, ja? I sell you two of them for the price of one.”
Søren wasn’t sure he understood. “Two?” When Mr. Koehler nodded, Søren answered Jan. “Pappa, two for fifty cents. A blessing!”
Jan, with a great smile on his face, thanked the grocer. Karl frowned, but when the wagon pulled away, Elli cradled the saplings in her apron.
Back in the rail yard, Jan and Karl packed the foods into the first car while Søren tended the pigs and o
xen.
While they worked, Jan’s mind was busy. We finally have everything we need! Except their claims, of course. But tomorrow they would leave Omaha and arrive in Fremont to seek out the land office.
“Pappa.” Søren tugged on his sleeve. “Pappa, come look at this pig. He is sick, I think.”
With sinking hearts, Karl and Jan both followed him. Karl removed the piglet from its crate. It was easy to see that the piglet was in distress—its breathing was labored and watery sounding; it lay without struggle in Karl’s hands.
Karl, without being asked, said, “A female.”
Jan was careful not to touch the pig or its crate. “Søren, have you tended the other pigs?”
“Nei, Pappa. I only touched this one. When I saw it, I came to tell you.”
“Good boy. You will go back to your mor and wash your hands and arms with hot water and soap, ja?”
Karl gave a knowing nod to Jan. They would ask the freight master where to take the dying piglet and its crate, so that the disease did not infect the yard.
Jan finished caring for the last two piglets. They seemed healthy and active—but so had the dying pig two days ago.
Lord, you know these are our last pigs, eh? A male and a female. I know they are not beneath your notice. You care about sparrows, Lord. Will you care about our pigs and keep them healthy? We are leaning on you, Lord.
They had one last task to complete this day. Jan and Karl began breaking down the wagons. As they removed the pegs, pins, and nails, they placed them in a canvas bag. Søren helped stack the boards and roll the wheels to their car.
Karl and Jan stacked all the wagon pieces atop the lumber. Jan hung the sack with the pegs and pins on a nail on the wall and put their tools away.
Very early the following morning, while still dark, Karl, Jan, and Søren arrived in the yard. The freight master and two of the yard men were waiting to help them load the oxen into their lumber car. The animals had been well fed and watered overnight.
The men rolled a sturdy ramp up to the car. The ramp had sides on it, so the oxen could only see forward. Jan and Karl opened the pen and led an ox to the ramp. As soon as the ox started up the ramp, they removed the rope, slapped the ox’s backside, and it ran up the ramp and into the car.
All the oxen went up the ramp easily except the temperamental one. It took the men more time to get him into the car. They had to tie a rope to each horn and stand on either side of the ramp, pulling him up it. Finally he went in, and Jan closed and locked the door.
They were ready. The freight master would have their cars moved off the siding and onto the track now. He would have the yard men couple their cars to the train.
Karl, Jan, and Søren returned to the boardinghouse and ate a simple breakfast. The women had repacked their belongings. With everyone carrying something, they trekked back to the yard to find their cars.
They were leaving Omaha at last.
The train ride to their next destination took less than two hours. Fremont was a rough settlement with a much smaller rail yard. The railroad had only reached Fremont in December. The track beyond Fremont was all new, having been laid in the months since then.
A ferry crossed the Elkhorn River at Fremont. Before the coming of the railroad, settlers traveling by wagon or on foot crossed the Elkhorn at Fremont, following the Mormon Trail west along the north bank of the Platte River.
The Thoresens disembarked when the train stopped. Karl refreshed their car’s water supply. Søren and Jan fed and watered the oxen and pigs; Elli and Amalie took the girls to a small market and bought milk, bread, and fruit. Karl spoke to the freight manager, asking him to move their cars to a siding and reconnect them in the morning.
Then Karl, Jan, and Søren set out to find the land office.
Søren handed the clerk a note that read, “Looking for land north of the Platte.” Sauli had scrawled the words for them. Søren managed to tell the clerk they had come from Omaha on the train.
“I hear the railroad will reach Columbus by next month,” the clerk replied. “Not much between Fremont and Columbus, and Columbus is mighty small.”
Jan and Karl did not understand what he said, and Søren only recognized a few words, but he nodded so the clerk studied the map. “There’s a water stop about halfway between Fremont and Columbus. A few folks live farther north in the bend where a little river turns.”
He pointed to the map. “We got claims open north and west of there.” His finger circled an area.
The two Thoresen men studied the map the claim clerk had laid before them. Jan traced a small river north from the penciled-in rail line and then followed a feeder creek west. Søren looked over Jan and Karl’s shoulders.
“These claims front this creek, Karl,” Jan murmured.
Karl nodded. “Ja. What kind of a creek?”
They looked at Søren. Already they were dependent on the little bit of English Søren was quickly picking up.
Søren licked his lips and asked. “Please. This?” He didn’t know a word for creek, so he pointed. Jan traced it for him.”
“Yes. That creek flows right into this-here river.” He pointed to the river Jan had already noted on the map. “Good little stream. Flows all year round.”
“Far, he says it is good all the time,” Søren reported.
Karl and Jan looked at each other and silently agreed. “Which one do you want, Bror?” Jan asked. “You pick; I will take the other, ja?”
“Takk! I will take this one, on the north,” Karl answered eagerly.
“Sønn, tell him we will take these two claims,” Jan told Søren.
“This one,” the clerk pointed to Karl’s, “Was homesteaded four years ago. The man went bust; didn’t stay.”
Søren’s forehead puckered, trying to figure out what the clerk had said. “Bust, please?”
“This claim,” the clerk tried again, pointing at it on the map.
Søren nodded.
“A man. Claim.”
Søren nodded again.
“No stay.” The clerk shook his head. “He go away. Bust.”
“Ah!” Søren thought he had it. “Pappa, he says someone had Onkel’s claim but, but, I think he says the man did not stay.”
Søren pointed to the plot again. “Two claims? Yes?”
“Yes,” the clerk replied. “That’ll be $18 filing fee for each claim, please.”
Jan was dazed with excitement as they left the claims office. He studied the paper in his hand, understanding little of the words printed in ink on it, but he saw his own name printed there beside his signature. He held the paper as if it were made of gold.
He and Karl looked at each other. They grinned. They laughed. They grabbed Søren and danced around in a circle.
Sobering, Jan and Karl carefully folded their claims and each placed his in the breast pocket of his homemade vest. As they started back to the rail yards, Jan patted his claim several times, just assuring himself that it truly was there.
They slept aboard their car in the rail yard that night. It was uncomfortable and crowded, but a light breeze flowing through the half-open door kept them cool.
At dawn a rap sounded on their car. Jan closed and latched the door, and their cars began to move from the siding back onto the main track. A while later the train jerked forward and began moving. Within minutes the tracks were bending west, following the Platte River.
Jan cracked open the door and stared along the curving length of the train ahead. He could see down to the river. In a few hours they would disembark and begin the last leg of their journey.
Ah, Lord! I feel like Abraham today. You are calling us to a place and an inheritance.
~~**~~
Chapter 6
Midmorning the train stopped in the middle of nowhere. The conductor ran down the line and smacked the door of their car.
“Open up,” he hollered.
Karl unlatched the door and slid it open. He and Jan jumped down. They saw nothing up and do
wn the line except the train and a water tower, for the train blocked their view of the other side. When the train left they would get their first look at what lay to the north. Two men were busily filling the train’s water tank.
The conductor motioned to them. “Unload here.” He gestured for them to hurry.
“Here” was simply a flat area to the side of the track. At least the tracks were not on a steep embankment. Jan and Karl unlocked their second car. They would have to unload the oxen first.
The conductor and another railroad man climbed into their first car and began tossing out the bales of hay. Amalie, Elli, and the girls, not knowing what to do, tried to keep out of their way.
A few seconds later Karl and Jan heard Elli crying, “Nei, nei!” and turned to see the railroad men tossing their food out of the car, too. A burlap bag of wheat hit the ground, split open, and began pouring grain into the dirt.
Jan ran back to the car and shouted to the men to stop. They ignored him. Jan clambered into the car and grabbed the conductor’s arm. The conductor shook Jan off, yelling at him. The other railroad man pushed Elli out of his way and reached for Jan.
Jan did not think; he only acted. His left fist swung in a tight circle. The railroad man bounced off the wall of the car and sank to the floor.
The conductor snarled at Jan. He jumped out of the car and drew a whistle from his pocket. The high-pitched, urgent repeating of his whistle filled the air. In response, a stream of railroad workers, on their way to the end of the line where new track was being laid, poured from a car forward of them. In less than a minute, a swarm of rough-looking men, spoiling for a brawl, surrounded them.
“Jan!” Karl’s mouth was tight with concern. He shouldered his way through the twenty or so laborers. They were standing on or walking on the foodstuffs thrown from the train.
Jan, with his arm around Elli, stood in the door of the car, waiting. He could feel her trembling within his arms. Oh, Lord! My quick temper has gotten us into a terrible situation. He was not unmindful of how badly things could go.
Wild Heart on the Prairie (A Prairie Heritage, Book 2) Page 5