No, Arvid wasn’t afraid of them either, he had only asked for the fun of it. And now he knew how it was: when the bears came, one was to lie flat on the ground and pretend to be dead. And he had good hearing; no doubt he would hear when the snakes came rattling and have time to run away.
About those who were called Negroes and had black woolly hair, it said in the book that they were kept as slaves, and were bought and sold as if they were cattle. Robert did not think this was being fair to them. Otherwise they seemed to have it decent and comfortable enough, and he read for Arvid about them: “Many slaves have better living quarters, food, clothing, care, working conditions and old-age security than most of England’s factory workers or the peasants in Europe. They have their own chickens and pigs, their own piece of land where they can cultivate whatever they wish and sell the yield for their own profit. A half-year may pass without abuse from their owner. It has therefore happened that liberated slaves — dissatisfied with their newfound liberty and its consequent responsibilities — have again sold themselves as slaves.”
Arvid listened in amazement: the slaves had their own chickens and their own pigs? And their own piece of land? And better food and clothing than most peasants at home? Then the best one could do on arriving in America would be to sell oneself as a slave; it would be the wisest thing a farmhand could do. Here in Sweden he would never be able to acquire his own patch of land, or chickens or pigs.
Robert said it was forbidden in America for white-skinned people to sell themselves as slaves.
“Forbidden?” retorted Arvid. “But you said America was a free land, that all people could do as they pleased. You just said so.”
“Yes, yes, but that kind of trade is forbidden anyway. For whites.”
“But why should it be forbidden to sell oneself? When all have the right to do as they please?”
Robert was confused, he couldn’t answer this. And Arvid thought that probably there was a difference between people in America, after all, if the whites did not have the same rights as the blacks to become slaves and have their own land with chickens and pigs.
He would have liked to read a few chapters in the book, Arvid would, if he had been able to, with his weak eyes; but he got such an eye-smart when he read; wouldn’t his friend continue?
Robert turned the page to a new chapter, describing the life of the inmates of an asylum in the New World — an asylum in Pennsylvania: “In this house the weak-minded work in their clear moments with weaving, wood chopping, sewing, spinning, knitting, etc., to shorten the time and occupy their minds, besides which for the same reason there are available books, newspapers, chess games, musical instruments, like the flute and the pianoforte. . ”
“For the crazy?” exclaimed Arvid.
“It says ‘the weak-minded.’”
“They have newspapers? And play flutes?” For the first time Arvid voiced doubt.
“Well — look for yourself.”
“God Almighty!”
But it was the truth, Robert’s eyes were too good to make a mistake in his reading. And when everything was so fine and expensive for insane people in America, one could easily imagine how the sane lived.
Arvid agreed immediately to go with his comrade to the New World.
In the United States of America no one could have heard the ugly rumor which the old woman in Nybacken had spread about him. There no one knew of the horrible deed with the white heifer which he was accused of here at home. In America no one would call him the Bull behind his back; there the girls wouldn’t shun him; there he could look all people freely in the eyes and be held in regard like other menfolk.
And on this the big servant shook hands with the little one: together they would cross the ocean.
— 5—
The lantern in the stable room burned late into the night while Arvid and Robert planned their future emigration. And none but the bedbugs in the rotten walls shared their secret deliberations.
Robert had been clever when he figured on driving Aron’s timber wagon to Karlshamn; thus the master would contribute, as it were, toward the fare for the journey to America. In the harbor town they would later come to agreement with some captain to sail them across the sea.
Arvid wondered: “How much is the fare across the ocean?”
Robert knew: The transportation from the port of embarkation in Sweden to New York in America, including provisions for the voyage, firewood, and fresh water, cost one hundred and fifty riksdaler1 for a grown person. To this was added ten riksdaler entrance fee to America, and some other expenses, so that every emigrant needed about two hundred riksdaler. He himself had that sum — his inheritance — remaining with his brother in Korpamoen.
“Two hundred daler!” Arvid had risen, now he sat down again, so heavily that the bench creaked in every joint.
Two hundred riksdaler was five years’ wages. And he had not one shilling saved. If he should save every penny, and didn’t even allow himself a pinch of snuff during the whole time, he would have to remain here in Nybacken and serve for five years before he could save that much money.
He sat dejected and avoided looking at his friend; he had never dreamed that the transportation to North America would cost such an incredible sum of money. He must stay at least five service years more — during five more years he would be forced to remain here as the Bull of Nybacken.
A long silence ensued. The bedbugs thought their nightly victims had finally gone to sleep and emerged cautiously from their holes and corners.
Two hundred riksdaler! That boy there was lucky to have an inheritance to draw on. But Robert must go alone, even though a moment ago they had decided to keep company and had sealed it by a handshake.
“You mean you cannot raise the transportation?”
“No — I couldn’t manage.”
“Not in any way?” Robert was almost as disappointed as Arvid.
“No, there isn’t any way out.”
“There must be some way. Perhaps we can help each other.”
And again they sat silent, and brooded and pondered.
Suddenly Arvid jumped up, his eyes gleaming. “I’ve got it! We may get across some other way!”
“What do you mean?”
Arvid grabbed hold of Robert’s shoulder, intense, breathless. “The highway, of course — we hadn’t thought of that!”
Surely, there must be some road over firm land. They could walk around the ocean, and in this way reach America dryshod. They would have to take a roundabout way, it would take them longer, but in his case that would make no difference; he would rather walk the long road to America than remain here and be shunned like a villain. If he could arrive dryshod, on foot, he would willingly take a roundabout road; he had strong, sturdy legs and was a good walker, he needn’t risk his life at sea. He was sure he could walk to America. It might take a few years, that couldn’t be helped. He would not take too much with him that might be a burden to carry, he couldn’t take his servant chest, he’d manage with a knapsack. He might take the keg too, he would need something to encourage him on the long journey if his legs alone must pay the transportation.