He was satisfied with his day; he had persevered and reached his destination before the end of the day. He had found what he so long had striven to find. And this evening he rested, unmindful of all the dangers of the wilderness — he rested with the assurance of having arrived home, protected by his own tree, on his own land: The farmer from the Stone Kingdom had arrived in the Earth Kingdom which he would possess.
He went to sleep at once, his weary body fell into the well of oblivion, peace, and renewal. Karl Oskar Nilsson slept heavily and well during his first night on the shore of Lake Ki-Chi-Saga, where he was to build a farmer’s life from its very beginning.
XIV. A SMÅLAND SQUATTER
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The next morning Karl Oskar returned to the small lake where the other three settlers awaited him, and before nightfall the four of them were back at Anders Månsson’s cabin in Taylors Falls.
The following day the men began to stake out and cut a road through to their claims, so as to be able to move their belongings and whatever they might need for the settling. Their clearing work began where the logging road ended; they continued past the small lake where Danjel and Jonas Petter had decided to settle, all the way to Lake Ki-Chi-Saga. They were five menfolk. Five axes cut all day long, through thickets and groves, felling and chopping and clearing. They built a road, digging here, filling there, until wagon wheels could roll along over the ground. The distance from Taylors Falls to Lake Ki-Chi-Saga was estimated to be ten miles, and it look the five men ten days to make a passable clearing.
Then it took three days to haul boards from the Taylors Falls mill to their places of settling. With these boards they intended to raise huts in which to live while building their log houses. For the hauling they hired Anders Månsson’s oxen, which moved so slowly on the newly cleared road that a whole day was required for each load.
Their almanac indicated to the Swedish settlers that the year had reached the last week of August. Only two months remained before winter would come to the St. Croix Valley; they were told that snow and cold weather would begin early in November. But the autumns were mild in the river valley — during all of September and most of October pleasant weather was said to prevail. For another two months people could live in huts and sheds without discomfort or danger from cold. And during this time they must build more permanent houses, able to withstand all weathers. They had not one day to lose if they were to have comfortable log houses before winter set in with its severe cold and blizzards.
First they must build a shanty on each claim. “Shanty” was Anders Månsson’s name for a shed. Jonas Petter was an experienced carpenter and timberman, and in three days he had built his small hut on the shores of the little lake; then he helped Danjel and Arvid build a larger one for Danjel’s family to move into. As soon as this was done they began felling timbers for their log houses.
Karl Oskar chose as the site for his first home the oak grove where he had slept during his first night at Lake Ki-Chi-Saga. With Robert as helper he soon raised a hut of rough boards, about nine square feet in size; he made the roof of young lindens, on top of which he laid bark and sod. This work took him and Robert four days. There were not sufficient boards left for flooring, and the two brothers stamped down the ground and covered it with a thick layer of hay, which they gathered from the meadow. They had left an opening to the south, facing the meadow, and now Karl Oskar hammered together a door, which he hung on hinges he had made of willow wattles; then he cut open a few holes to let in light. He did not bother with a fireplace, as it would be difficult to get rid of the smoke. Instead, he built a makeshift cooking place of clay, sand, and a few stones outside near the door. This could be used as long as the warm season lasted. But he had to search widely along the shores before he found enough stones. To search for stones was a new and unusual occupation for the farmer from Korpamoen!
The family’s first home in North America was now ready, and they could move in under their own roof. Kristina and the children had remained with Anders Månsson and had not yet seen their new home. Karl Oskar prepared his wife cautiously: “It’s only a simple weather break: soon I'll raise a sturdy log house.”
She looked forward to being in her own home where she could have her own say; this had long been her fervent desire.
Karl Oskar borrowed the oxen from Anders Månsson for the moving, and their belongings made a big load. Besides their things from Sweden, they must bring a supply of foodstuffs, which Karl Oskar had bought from Mr. Abbott, the Scot, in Taylors Falls: one barrel of rye flour for bread, one sack of salt, a few pounds of sugar, and other necessities for the household; he had also bought various articles needed for the building of the main house. He had dug deep into his cash, spending almost twenty-five dollars. The barrel of flour would last a long time for bread baking, but he had bought no meat or pork: for more substantial food they must depend on game from the forest and fish from the lake.
It was a pleasant morning in early fall when the family from Korpamoen set out for Lake Ki-Chi-Saga. The weather was now cooler, with mild sunshine over the green forest wilderness; perfect weather for moving. Kristina and the children rode on the wagon, Karl Oskar and Robert walked on either side of the load, holding on to it now and then to prevent the wagon from turning over. Karl Oskar drove, holding the thongs in one hand and steadying the load with the other. The new road was rough and the wagon was no soft-rolling spring carriage: it was entirely made of wood.
The wheels of Anders Månsson’s ox wagon consisted of four trundles sawed from a thick oak log. The axles fitted into holes in these rough blocks and had pins of wood on their ends, like the pins in a single-horse pull shaft. The front wheels were a little smaller than the back pair; the wagon tree connecting the two pairs had holes in it to lengthen or shorten the wagon, if required. The dry wooden axles groaned as the trundles turned, they squeaked loudly at the friction of wood against wood. And the clumsy wheels jolted and rolled heavily over hollows and stumps.
The children yelled in delight; they had not been on a wagon pulled by a team since leaving the horse wagons in Karlshamn last spring. But Kristina was not so well pleased to sit on this jouncing, shaking wooden vehicle. And was this clearing through the forest called a road? Even a person walking would find it difficult to get through between stumps and thickets. She wondered that the wheels were able to roll at all, she sympathized with the whining, whimpering wagon; if she had been a wagon she too would have complained about being forced through this wild woodland.
Karl Oskar explained that the wagon was not greased; Anders Månsson did not keep his implements in good order. Nor had he himself been able to find any fat — animal tallow, or such — to use this morning for greasing the axles. The wagon reminded him that iron was as scarce here as wood was abundant.
Kristina called the vehicle “The Whimpering Wagon,” but the day they hauled the boards to the claim, Robert had already named it “The Screech Cart.”
The riders on the big load were soundly shaken; the wagon jolted and bumped, almost worse than a ship on a stormy sea — it rolled and pitched more than the Charlotta. After a few miles Kristina felt sick: “No! I want no more swinging! Neither on water nor land!”