Chapter Seven

The Bonds of Destiny - April 1764

Jonas Hershberger stood at the top of the hill and looked down on the Northkill Settlement. Below him, the road wound back through the trees. The forest was alive with songbirds, and the morning breeze stirred the palette of wildflowers that were in bloom everywhere. Pink clouds floated above him as the morning sun touched the day with streamers of golden light. Jonas could hear the gobbling of a flock of wild turkeys in a stand of hemlocks away down the hill, and several deer were stepping gracefully across the meadow at the top of the rise. In between the dark pines, Jonas could see flashes of red from the peeling, shaggy bark of the cedar trees. 

Jonas had grown to love this beautiful valley. He had spent many happy hours hunting in the forest or climbing the mountain behind their farm. He had toiled in the fields alongside his brothers and learned to take pride in abundant harvest. He had labored long at his father’s mill. The beauty of the fall and the mildness of the winters, the bursting forth of life in the spring and the long peaceful summers were etched upon his memory indelibly. Thirteen years earlier, Bishop Jacob Hertzler had arrived and their community became the leading Amish settlement in all of Pennsylvania. It had been the only home he really remembered. He had grown up here.

This place had once been forbidden Indian Territory, but now white settlers mostly populated it. It was here that the boy named Wingenund had taken his cow, and the fruit of that confrontation had been Jonas’ unyielding decision to follow the non-violent ways of his people. He sighed as he recalled that day. His reverie was broken when Martha called to him from the wagon.

“Jonas, you love this place. Why are we leaving?”

He looked over at the wagon. The canvas sides were rolled up, and his twin sons were up on the driver’s seat. As usual, they were arguing: this time over who was to hold the reins. Aaron, his youngest son, was playing with the dog next to the wagon. The four red oxen stood patiently, waiting to be on the move again. Martha sat in the back with his daughters. He could hear the girls sniffling as they wept quietly. It had taken many months for Jonas to persuade his wife and family to leave their home, and now he turned with a frown and walked back to the wagon.

“Martha, I’ve explained this many times. I am the youngest of five sons. I have no inheritance here. My only future is as a hired hand on a farm belonging to my oldest brother or working in my father’s mill.”

“But, Jonas, my father would divide his land between you and my brother. Wouldn’t that satisfy you?”

“Your father’s farm is smaller than my father’s. What will we do when our sons are grown? I want to go where there will be room for them to take up land. Martha, look down there.”

Jonas pointed to the valley. All along the creek and out onto the land surrounding it there were cabins and houses. Smoke from the chimneys clouded the bright spring air. As far as Jonas could see, the land was under cultivation.

“It’s all gone, Martha. There is no room for our sons to grow and have their own farms. They would have to leave here, so we might as well go first and blaze a trail for them in a new land. We have an opportunity at Fort Pitt. Many settlers are moving in, and they need a miller. There is much open land along the Ohio. We can have a large farm and my sons can be part of the building of a new country.”

Jonas climbed up on the wagon seat and shook the reins. The oxen started and the wagon began to roll down the old trail, now a broad road into the once-forbidden land of the Lenapes.

“Aren’t you afraid of Indians, husband?”

Jonas shook his head. “No, Martha, the Delaware tribes left years ago. The white people treated them very unfairly, and now the Indians are gone. The treaties that Penn made with the tribes long ago were set aside or broken by his sons.  With the help of the Iroquois tribes, the British have pushed the Lenape far out to the west.”

“But, Jonas, won’t they give us trouble when we get there?”

“Martha, we are not going that far. We are going to a British fort that is still in Pennsylvania; Fort Pitt. A new city is springing up there, and it is a fertile area where there is much land available for settlers. They have soldiers that defend the incomers and the Indians have withdrawn into the wilderness.”

“But, Jonas, we are Amish. Won’t they ask us to take up arms to defend ourselves?”

Jonas turned to his wife and put his arm around her. “So many questions, my dearest. There are many settlers and traders moving through and they need flour. We can build a mill on the river and have our homestead right there within a short distance of the fort.”

Martha shook her head. “It makes me very anxious, Jonas. I don’t like change at all.”

Jonas sighed. “‘Be anxious for nothing, Martha, but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your heart and mind through Christ Jesus.’”

Martha nodded her head in agreement with Jonas’ words. “I try not to be a zweifler, Jonas, but I can’t help doubting sometimes. I need to trust you are hearing from Gott and put my fears aside.”

“Ja, my dearest, that it is exactly so. Sie müssen Ihre Ängste beiseite.”

Jonas shook the reins and the oxen picked up their pace. They had many miles to go.

Many days later they halted their wagon at the top of the hill above Fort Pitt. From the high bank where they stopped, the land ran downhill and narrowed gradually until it ended in a sharp point that marked the last piece of land between the Allegheny and Monongahela rivers.  Here, the two streams merged and formed the broad Ohio. The newborn river flowed around a wide curve and disappeared between heavily forested banks. On the narrow point of land commanding a view of the three rivers stood the long, low pentagonal fort built of earth and brick. The massive fortifications, the surrounding ditch filled with water from the river, and the small gun ports cut into the brick-faced walls gave the structure a reassuringly impregnable look.

It had been a hard journey, and their difficulties were compounded when their youngest girl fell sick with fever. The Hershbergers were forced to stop and camp along the trail until the child was better. While they were there, a group of settlers who were going to build a settlement a few miles downstream from Fort Pitt traveled by, and the Hershbergers joined their wagon train. When Jonas explained that he was a miller, the settlers enjoined him to become part of their group. And so the Hershbergers arrived at the fort with a call and a commission.

As they stood on the bluff, they could see many log cabins below them. There was much activity around the dwellings, but beyond the encampment and across the river, the dark, primeval forest loomed in quiet and solemn majesty. Horses were grazing on the short grass around the fort, and oxen munched at hay that had been thrown to them. Smoke from many fires curled upward, and women dressed in the linsey garments of the pioneer stood stirring the contents of steaming kettles in front of the cabins. A man swung an axe with a strong arm, and the clean, sharp strokes rang in the air like bells pealing. From where they stood they could see a group of soldiers in their distinctive red coats drilling on a small parade ground inside the walls of the fort.

Jonas turned to his wife. “Here is the fort, dearest wife. As you can see, there are many people and many soldiers. Fort Pitt is well built and strong. Why, it withstood a two-month siege by the Indians during Pontiac’s war. Just to look at it makes me think this fort could stand forever. We will not be many miles down the river, and if any of the Indians arise, we can flee here and be completely safe. And there is word that another fort is to be built near our farm.”

Jonas’ enthusiasm was lost on Martha. “I hope you are right, husband. But still, I wish we had never left Northkill.”

The twin boys clambered down off the wagon. Jonathan pulled off his hat and tossed it into the air. “Huzzah! We are in our new home. Just imagine how many deer roam those woods. I’ll be the hunter for the family and keep us in fresh deer meat, wild turkey, and elk.”

Joshua was quick to respond. “Not without me, brother. I will provide more meat for I am the better shot.”

Jonas could sense a storm brewing, so he grabbed both boys by the shoulders. “The main focus of our life here will be the farm and our crops. After that you will help me in the mill. Then, and only then, if there is time, you will be able to hunt.”

Joshua nodded his assent. “Yes, daed, you are right. We are farmers and I will help you grow the best crops in all Pennsylvania.”

Jonathan scowled. “But I don’t like farming, Papa!  I want to be in the forest, hunting and fishing. Someone will have to supply meat for us. Why can’t it be me?”

Jonas smiled. His two sons were so alike and yet so different. Jonathan, the warrior, and Joshua, the peacemaker. Joshua always put the betterment of the family first, but Jonathan was self-centered and truculent. Jonas sighed and looked toward heaven.

Ich werde deine Hilfe brauchen, lieber Gott! I will need you help with this oldest son of mine.

The next day, the two boys were given time to explore the fort while Jonas went down river with the men to visit their new home. “I must see the land where our farm will be, and then I will make arrangements for lumber, a millwheel, and a grinding stone to be delivered to the site. You boys may look around, but do not stray into the woods, and keep your mother informed as to your whereabouts.”

The two boys could hardly hide their excitement. “Yes, Papa!”

Jonas smiled. Sometimes the boys were so linked that even their answers sounded like an echo.

After Jonas left, Jonathan and Joshua began their exploration. They asked a sentry if they could go inside the fort, and they spent a few hours walking the battlements. Jonathan imagined himself to be a soldier defending the fort, but Joshua was reluctant to join in games of war. Jonathan smirked at him.

“It’s a different world out here, brother. We may not be able to stick to the peaceful ways of our people.”

Joshua frowned. “You should not speak this way, Jonathan. The Bible says…”

Jonathan interrupted. “The Bible, the Bible… That is all we ever hear. Well, the Bible was back then and this is now. We face many challenges and great danger here on this frontier, and we must be ready to defend ourselves.”

“I will never forsake the ways of our people, Jonathan.”

“Then you may end up a dead peace-lover, little brother.”

Joshua pushed his brother. “I am not your little brother. Maam said I put my hand out first.”

“Yes, Joshua, but I beat you, as I always do.”

In the early afternoon the boys were making their way back to their camp when they heard a commotion along the riverbank. They pushed through the crowd and saw a group of Indians coming out of the woods and down to the encampment. They led packhorses loaded with furs.

Joshua stopped. “They must be here to trade, Jonathan.”

“Or spy out the defenses of the fort.”

The Indians were led by a tall, imposing man with a long rifle. He had a headband with three feathers, a long cloak draped around his shoulders and buckskin leggings tied with thongs. His powerful muscles rippled as he walked. His face was impassive, yet he radiated power and leadership. Behind him walked a pure black horse. Seated bareback on the animal was a young girl. She had coal-black hair and was dressed in a white beaded, leather dress. The girl’s most amazing feature was her eyes. They were deep brown pools set in a beautiful light-skinned face. She did not look like the rest of the Indians in the group. A scout that had been with their wagon train was standing close to them. He pointed to the tall chief and the lovely child. “That ‘ere is Wingenund, the greatest of the Delaware chiefs. And that be his daughter, Opahtuhwe, the White Deer.”

Jonathan frowned. “I thought we were at war with the Delaware.”

“Aye, but Wingenund is here under a flag of truce. He wants the British to enforce their laws about further settlements in Ohio. There is to be a big council, and all the chiefs are coming.”

Joshua pulled the man’s arm and pointed to the girl. “Why does she have pale skin?”

The man laughed. “She’s part French. They say she is the granddaughter of a great French general. When the general was visiting America years ago, the Injuns stole his ten-year-old daughter. She grew up with the reddys and married a great chief. Spring of Water, Wingenund’s wife, was their daughter and Opahtuhwe is Wingenund’s child.”

Joshua couldn’t take his eyes off the girl. Although she was young, the bloom of a coming loveliness rested lightly on her features. The boys crowded closer and Joshua caught the girl’s eye. She glanced his way and then Joshua was lost in the deep pools of her eyes. She looked at Joshua for a long moment and then Jonathan caught her attention. She looked back and forth between the two brothers, so alike as to be indistinguishable. The beautiful eyes widened for a moment and then a shy smile stole across her face. She turned away quickly. The Indians passed and Joshua stared after the girl. Jonathan punched him on the shoulder. “What’s wrong, brother? Cat got your tongue?”

“She’s the most beautiful girl I ever saw.”

Jonathan spit on the ground. “Aw, she’s just a kid! And she’s a reddy.”

But Joshua and Jonathan had looked upon the White Deer of the Lenape. And they would never be the same.