"Allow me, gentlemen," Helldorf now began, "to call your attention to some circumstances which I find have hitherto not been considered. The long journey is the least matter, for you must go somewhere or other, and if you have not too much luggage, that can be got over well enough; but the cleared land has not been tilled for five years, as I hear, and you must remember that we are in America, and not in Germany."
"You don't pretend to affirm that that will injure the land?" the doctor, who seemed highly dissatisfied with the young Kentuckian's presence, interrupted him.
"Not in the least," the other replied; "but do you think that nothing has grown on the old field in five years, or that the bushes and young trees which have shot up can be so very easily eradicated?"
"Well, but though underwood is bad enough, certainly," interposed Mr. Herbold, "still there are plenty of us, and it sha'n't take long to clear all that off again."
"My good Mr. Herbold," objected Helldorf, "believe me, you and all your company could not in several years clear fifteen acres of woodland on the Mississippi, which, having been chopped, has lain waste for five years;[4] and besides, I am convinced that you must not reckon in the least on fences and buildings; for where these have been so long neglected in the bush, they will hardly be of any use."
"Mr. Helldorf, I can't comprehend why you view everything from the blackest side!" remarked the doctor, somewhat offended, as it seemed. "What grounds do you give for your apprehensions?"
"My own experience," the Kentuckian calmly replied; "it happened so with my own land; just where the largest trees were cut down, or only girdled and withered, so that light and air could have free access to the soil, there the young saplings and stems shot out with a rankness and rapidity of which Europeans can form no notion; and this after-growth, for the very reason that it consists mostly of roots, is a great deal more difficult to clear than the aboriginal trees, the thick shadows from the tops of which have killed the underwood beneath for ages past. But, passing over this, what title to this land can you show to the society?"
It was obvious that the worthy doctor was unwilling to enter upon answers to young Helldorf's questions; but as the eyes of the whole assembly were fixed on the doctor, as though they addressed the question to him, he smilingly drew a parchment from his breast pocket, and unfolded it. It was the grant of the said 160 acres of land to a certain William Hewitt, in consideration of military services performed, and was signed by President Monroe, in 1819.