CHAPTER XII
The following day was the Sabbath, though it brought the Germans on the Mohawk and on the creek no Sabbath rest; but only labor, fatigue, alarm, distraction. From early morning it swarmed in all the settlements as in a bee-hive. Wives prepared and packed. Holes were dug in carefully selected and well-concealed places, in which such valuable things as could not well be taken along were hidden. The men got their arms in readiness, or brought the cattle from the pastures and from the woods and shut them up in the yards so that they could at any moment drive them to the fort, or to Herkimer's house, as orders had been given yesterday afternoon. Boats went busily here and there. From time to time a rider hastened to one of the rendezvous appointed for the three flying corps. A feeling of security and pride took possession of all when such a squadron, consisting of twenty-four well mounted and armed young men, under the lead of Charles Herkimer, Richard's oldest brother, trotted up the river toward Black River to reconnoiter. By noon the two new ferries were also ready. All felt assured of the usefulness of these arrangements, now that it had come to the point of actual flight, though yesterday they had met with earnest opposition. However, more than one could hardly believe in such a possibility, for the sun in the blue sky shone down so golden, the birds sang so blithely in the trees, and over the fields from the little church on the hill came the clear sound of the small bell. But, indeed, on the twelfth of November of the year before, the sun also rose clear, and when it had gone down its last rays had fallen on the ruins of more than one burned house, and more than one was lying in the fields who would never again see it rise. The remembrance of that dreadful day was yet too fresh to allow the thoughtless to shut out the seriousness of the situation; and the bitter thought that they would have to answer for leaving house and home unprotected from the ruthless enemy, reminded them of Herkimer's words the day before, that everything, except life itself, can again be arranged, and can be more or less easily made to accommodate itself to the inevitable.
Also in the otherwise so quiet house on the creek there was to-day a restless urgency. Jacob Ehrlich and Anthony Bierman had come from the Mohawk, accoutered with their rifles and a large sack of ammunition, which Herkimer had given them, and which the stout young men had carried by turns the whole distance up the creek. Now the powder, to which each added his own store, was equally divided, and the caliber of the rifles was measured, whence it appeared that two different sizes of bullets must be cast. With this Lambert intrusted Adam Bellinger, after, under four eyes, not without a certain solemnity, he had said that it was his earnest desire to stay and take part in every danger with him and the rest. He knew about the French, but would rather hear the whistling of their bullets and the Indian's war-whoop than the laughter of the women at home should he now return without having accomplished anything. Lambert pitied the poor fellow, and the more since Catherine took kindly to her foolish admirer and laughed in a friendly way at his peculiarities.
In the council of war held by the young men it was decided that they must leave the door-yard, which for good reasons had been made to extend a considerable distance from the house, as it was, and that their defense must be confined to the house itself. The proposition of Richard to conduct the water of the creek into the dry ditch which encircled the foot of the hill outside of the stone inclosure was discarded as evidently requiring too much time. Instead of this it was decided to deepen the partly filled ditch as much as they could, and in many places where the wall was broken down to repair and raise it and entirely to block up the passage-way through it opposite the house-door with stones and plank, and meanwhile use a bridge over the wall and dug-way that could be easily removed. There was found little to do to the house itself, though they looked carefully after the strong shutters with which the port-holes of the ground-floor, like those of a war-ship, could be closed from within, and so also at those covering the round holes in the gallery, through which they could fire at an enemy from above, should he be able to reach the house and come beneath the gallery. In the roof were cut several trap-doors, so that here also those approaching could be greeted with two very long-range rifles.
While the men were thus engaged, Catherine and Aunt Ursul, who had again come early in the morning, did not remain unemployed. Fortunately water did not first have to be brought. The spring carried into the house by the intelligent and indescribable labor of Lambert's father, furnished plentifully all that was needed. But for the moment the supply of provisions seemed to be inadequate. During Lambert's absence Conrad had lived from hand to mouth, according to his hunter's custom, and Catherine had manifestly had no time to supply what was lacking. So Adam had repeatedly to go empty to the Ditmar house, which happily was not far, and come back loaded with loaves of bread, hams and other good things--every time received with a loud hallo by his merry companions--until Aunt Ursul declared that there was enough to last eight days. For still better provision a couple of wethers of Lambert's small flock were driven into the inclosure where also Hans was pastured on the short grass, and often shook his thick head and looked at Lambert with his intelligent eyes, as though he wished to know what the unusual rush to-day might mean, and whether he must walk about saddled all day. But it might be that at any moment a message had to be sent, and Hans had to be ready.
So they labored busily in the work of fortifying, and were toward noon engaged in erecting the fire-signal, when a rider on a gray horse became visible, as he was coming up the valley on a trot.
"Herkimer! Herkimer!" called out Fritz Volz, who first saw him.
"Yes, it is father," said Richard in confirmation.
A few minutes later the distinguished man stopped before the door, and was respectfully greeted by Lambert and the other young men.
"I have no time to stop," said Herkimer, "and only wanted to see how far you have got. Now this looks well. Could you fill the ditch with water it would indeed be better; but this would be a long and wearisome labor, and you will have to dispense with it. How are you off for ammunition? Do you think you have enough, Lambert?"
Herkimer had now dismounted, and he asked Lambert and Aunt Ursul, who had meanwhile come out of the house, to give him detailed account of the condition of things, by means of which he knew how to bring it about that they should get some distance from the others.
He then said, "I would like to speak to you alone. I feel sure of you, and of Richard, but I am not so certain of the others, whom I do not know so well. You will here, so far as one can now judge, have a difficult position. I this morning received intelligence that the French have at least three hundred men, and that besides this the Onondagas and the Oneidas will join them. The bargain is indeed not yet concluded, but will doubtless be made if our last means fail--I mean if Conrad is not in a position to bring his old friends into a different state of mind. I have from the governor the long-expected authority to yield to them everything possible, and can intrust Conrad with it. He or nobody is in a situation to turn away from us this great misfortune. Where is he? I have not yet seen him."
"Hurry over there, Lambert. Those sparrow-heads will not finish without you," said Aunt Ursul.
"The poor boy!" she proceeded, as Lambert went away with red cheeks and a thankful look at Aunt Ursul, "the poor, dear boy! his heart is being eaten out; and that so that now the whole world must become acquainted with his brother's shame, which is really his own shame. Nay, you are indeed not sponsor for the whole world, Herkimer, but in this case you must be satisfied with me."
She then briefly told Herkimer all that it was necessary for him to know.
The excellent man listened with an earnest, thoughtful mien, and there lay a deep pain in the tone of his voice as now, shaking his gray head, he said:
"So we Germans will not unitedly resist our natural enemy. That Conrad should now fail us is a sad misfortune. His quarrel with Lambert at this moment means, not one friend less, but several hundred enemies more. Yes, why do I say hundred? The example of the Oneidas may become the measure of all the nations along the lakes, and then our well-being--our peace--is past for a long time, perhaps forever!"
Nicolas Herkimer sighed, and struck his forehead with his hand.
"Now," said he, "what one cannot hinder one must let happen, and, in any case, poor Catherine cannot help it. Let us go in a few moments, aunt, I would like to form the acquaintance of the maiden who so turns the heads of our young men."
Catherine, who was busily engaged at the hearth in her preparations for dinner, had paid no attention to what was going on outside. She had just stepped to the door to look for Aunt Ursul, and suddenly saw a strange and very stately man opposite to her, in whom she at once recognized Nicolas Herkimer. A deep blush flew over her cheeks; then, however, she approached without being confused, and put her hand in Herkimer's offered right hand.
"Poor child!" said he, holding her thin fingers for a moment, "the life that awaits you here is very rough. May the strength you need not be wanting to you."
"Ah, what, sponsor," said Aunt Ursul; "do not make the maiden shy. You think because she has hands like a princess--but it depends not on the hands, but on the heart, sponsor--and that I assure you is in the right place. So much I can tell you."
"Should you not say it, those eyes would do so," said Herkimer smiling--"at least to me, who am old enough to look into them without being punished for it. Now, my dear girl, you need not blush. You see my hair is getting gray, so a joke may be allowed. Live happy, Aunt Ursul. Live happy, kind maiden; and may heaven grant that we may joyfully meet again."
He said the last words also to the young men, who had finished their work and had come up. Then he pressed the hand of each one in turn, holding that of his son Richard perhaps a moment longer, swung himself on the gray, and rode off on a sharp trot without looking back.
"That is an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no guile," said Aunt Ursul. "And now, children, let us go to the table. I have an appetite like a wild wolf."
Notwithstanding this information, at the dinner to which they now sat down Aunt Ursul ate almost nothing, and also, contrary to her custom, was very still. Toward the last she took no part whatever in the conversation, and first woke from her absent-mindedness when Anthony Bierman, who had the watch, announced the minister.
"Who?" called Aunt Ursul, as she quickly rose from her chair; "the minister? He comes at the right time for me. God has sent him. Keep your seats; do you hear?"
Aunt Ursul hastily left the house and went to meet the minister, who, with rapid strides, was approaching, having his hat, wig and snuff-box in one hand, and in the other a colored pocket handkerchief with which he was wiping his bald head.
"I know it already," he called out, as soon as he caught sight of Aunt Ursul. "Herkimer, who met me between your house and Volz', has told me everything."
"So much the better," replied Aunt Ursul, "and now, dominie, don't talk as loud as if you were standing in the pulpit. The young folks are within, and must not hear what we are doing here. Come close."
She led the minister away from the house to the wall of the door-yard, where nobody could hear except Hans, who now raised his thick head and with a bit of grass in his mouth observantly looked at the two with his black eyes from under his bushy foretop.
"What business have you to listen? Go your way," said Aunt Ursul to the horse.
"But, Aunt Ursul, what in all the world is it all about?" asked the minister.
"You shall soon hear," replied Aunt Ursul, whose glances wandered from the edge of the woods to the sky, and from there again toward the woods, and at last, with a peculiar expression of face, rested on the minister.
"You are not married, dominie, and for what you do, or leave undone, you are accountable to nobody."
"What do you mean by that?" asked the minister.
"My old man is seventy-one, and I do not believe that he will last much longer," remarked Ursul thoughtfully.
The minister held the pinch of snuff, that he had meant to apply to his nose, between his fingers, and looked attentively at Aunt Ursul.
"Should he live longer, he has had me thirty years; and sometime everything must come to an end; so we are very properly called and chosen thereto."
The minister dropped the pinch of snuff. "For God's sake, Aunt Ursul, what are you driving at?"
"I took you to be more courageous," said Aunt Ursul.
"And I you to be more rational," said the minister.
"About such things one must ask his own heart," said Aunt Ursul.
"And the heart is a timorous, perverse thing," replied the minister.
"Yes, very timid," said Aunt Ursul, scornfully.
"Yes; truly perverse," said the minister guardedly.
"Now, without further parley, will you be my man, or not?" said Aunt Ursul who had lost patience.
"God forbid!" said the minister, who could no longer control his repugnance.
"Indeed, you look like a man," said Aunt Ursul contemptuously, turning on her heel.
"Are you then entirely God-forsaken, unhappy woman?" said the minister, laying his fleshy hand on Aunt Ursul's shoulder.
"Not I, but you, hare-hearted man," said Aunt Ursul, shaking off his hand and turning vigorously away. "You who always preach about sacrifice and love, and have neither the one nor the other; and shear the cuckoo for the lost lamb, if you can only sit quietly by your flesh-pots. Now then stay, in the devil's name--God forgive me the sin--I shall be able alone to find the road to my poor, misguided boy, and God will give me the right words to touch his heart."
Again Aunt Ursul turned away. The minister slapped his forehead, and with a few rapid steps overtook her as she was hastening from him.
"Aunt Ursul!"
"What do you want?"
"Naturally I will go with you."
"For once."
"For once and every time. By the thousand, woman! why did you not tell me at once that it was something about Conrad?"
"About whom else should it be?"
"About many things. Forget what I have said. I give you my word as a man and as a servant of God that it was a misunderstanding--of which I am ashamed--and for which I ask your pardon. When shall we start?"
Aunt Ursul shook her head. She could not conceive what her old friend had before thought, but she felt that he was now fully resolved, and minutes were precious.
"At once naturally," she replied to his last question.
"I am ready."
"So! Come in and say a friendly word to the girl, and let nothing be noticed. Lambert must not know what we have in hand. Nobody must know. If we succeed in bringing him back it is well; if not, let his shame be buried with us. In either case they must not feel concerned about us. It is possible, dominie, that we shall never return. You comprehend that clearly?"
"God's will be done," said the minister.