The German Pioneers: A Tale of the MohawkSpielhagen, Friedrich
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The German Pioneers: A Tale of the Mohawk
Spielhagen, Friedrich
Germans -- New York (State) -- Fiction; Mohawk River Valley (N.Y.) -- Fiction
She entered the house to see what time it was. The hand of the
Swartzwald clock pointed to twelve. The distance to Nicolas Herkimer's
house was six miles. If she counted going and returning it was twelve,
and on the calculation of the men themselves would take them two hours,
so that Lambert could be back by six o'clock, or by seven at the
latest. That was indeed a long time, but there was yet much to do, and
perhaps also to-day Conrad would return earlier from hunting.
"On Conrad's account I should remain here," said Catherine to herself
as she cleared away the dinner-dishes. "He must learn to see in me his
sister, and he will, when we show our confidence in him and have no
secrets before him. Ah, could I only yesterday have greeted him as a
brother! However, that will follow. It must follow yet to-day, when he
returns. Then we will live together in peace, and the wild man will
find that it is not a bad thing to have a female friend who takes care
of him until he himself loves a girl, and establishes a home and builds
a house for himself here near us, or at the edge of the woods he so
much loves. That will be a joyful, happy life. We will be good
neighbors. I shall love his wife and she me."
Catherine had sat down on the hearth and, with her head supported by
her hand, looked before her with half-closed eyes, thinking. The fire
on the hearth gently crackled; the wall-clock said "tick-tack." In the
meadow outside the birds sang. Through the open door the sun shone
clear into the cool, shaded room; and in the bright sunbeams, which
reached as far as her knees, dust atoms danced, lighted up, and
twinkling like golden stars seemed to be waving and playing and
catching one another. Then they were no longer golden stars, but
children's laughing faces, which emerged out of the partial darkness of
the background, came up to her knees, and again disappeared in the dark
corners, and from them looked out with bright, blue, happy eyes. Then
the vision vanished. The sun still shone into the silent room. The fire
crackled. The wall-clock said "tick-tack," and out in the meadows sang
the birds.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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