The German Pioneers: A Tale of the MohawkSpielhagen, Friedrich
General
The German Pioneers: A Tale of the Mohawk
Spielhagen, Friedrich
Germans -- New York (State) -- Fiction; Mohawk River Valley (N.Y.) -- Fiction
"Once," said Adam, "about a month ago. Father went to Schenectady with
the wheat, and I was alone in the field, when little Anton came running
and cried out: 'The Indians have swum across the creek and are at our
house.' Fear so flew into my legs that I did not know where my head
stood, and I wanted to go right home to help the women. But when I
again got my breath I was standing before Eisenlord's door. The old man
was at home, and at once sent his youngest son to Peter Volz', whence
soon there came the old man himself and Fritz and August. Then we went
courageously forward, though the crying women did not want us to go. On
the way Christian Eisenlord and young Peter Volz joined us, so that we
were six or seven, although apparently there could not much reliance be
placed on me, since I almost cried my eyes out from pity and heartache
that I should now find our house burned down, and my beautiful Bless
and the four English hogs, that I had just that morning bought of John
Martens, driven away, and mother and Barbara and Gussie and Annie
scalped. But as we came out of the woods, through which we had
carefully skulked, there stood our house undisturbed; and the women
were standing before the door scolding little Anton, who was crying
bitterly."
"How about the Indians?" asked Lambert.
"You must not interrupt me, if I am to tell my story in an orderly
way," said Adam. "Where was I?"
"At Anton, who was crying bitterly."
"The poor boy!" said Adam. "I could not blame him. He should have gone
in and covered the Indian--who was about naked, so that the women were
ashamed."
"Then there really was one there?"
"Yes, indeed; and he had swum through the creek, and lay on the hearth
as drunk as a red-skin can be, and snored so that we could hear him
outdoors. Then the others had a good laugh at my expense, and, since,
they have constantly jeered me about the drunken fellow, though one
should not paint the devil on the wall. I indeed could do nothing about
it. But little Anton should have been wiser. On account of what took
place then, they would not believe my message to-day; and had I not
said and sworn that Herkimer himself had told my father, they would
have remained at home, except Aunt Ursul, who immediately saddled both
her horses."
"So! Has uncle also gone along?" asked Lambert.
"We shall soon know," said Adam. "I will call." They stopped before the
Ditmar house. Adam rose in his stirrups, put both hands to his mouth
and screamed so loud that the doves on the roof were frightened, and
Melac, the watch-dog, in the yard, began to bark and howl fearfully.
"He, holla! Christian Ditmar! holla, he!" However the long figure of
old Ditmar did not appear at the upper-half of the door, through which
one could see the interior.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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