| |
THE NEXT MORNING BEGAN in a more leisurely fashion. 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 oxen.
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.
—
EARLY THE FOLLOWING morning, while the sky was 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.
—
THE TRAIN RIDE TO THEIR next destination took only a few 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.
~~**~~
