At the exchange rate of one dollar for each two and a half daler, the farmer had two hundred and six dollars coming to him. But from this sum the captain must deduct the exchange fee and the landing fees for man, wife, brother, and three children.
He told the farmer, “You have to pay thirty-seven and a half daler for six people.”
“Is that the entrance fee to America?”
“We might call it that. There is also the exchange fee. Four dollars — that is, ten daler.”
Lorentz counted and deducted: Balance to pay — a hundred and eighty-seven dollars. He counted out this sum in twenty-, ten-, and one-dollar coins, gold and silver, which he gave to the young farmer, who himself counted the money slowly and carefully. Then he put the coins, one at a time, into a homemade sheepskin belt which he carried around his waist under his shirt. The captain gave the hiding place a nod of approval.
The big-nosed farmer, having received his money, still remained standing in the cabin.
“Do you think you’ve been cheated in the exchange?” the captain asked.
“No. No, it isn’t that. But I would like to ask you about something, Mr. Captain.”
“Yes?”
Karl Oskar Nilsson continued: There were fifteen of them, eight full grown and seven children, all from Ljuder Parish in Småland, who had undertaken the voyage together to this new country. Now they had been delayed at sea, the summer was already far advanced, and they were anxious to reach their destination as soon as possible, so as to be able to find land and get something planted before winter set in. All of those from Ljuder Parish intended to go to Minnesota, where land was said to be reasonably priced for people with little money. Now they wanted to continue their journey without delay; would the captain be kind enough to advise them how to get started inland?
“Have you any definite place in mind?”
“Yes. Here is the name.”
From his purse Karl Oskar took out a soiled, worn piece of paper, once part of an envelope:
Mister Anders Månsson.
Taylors Falls Påst Offis
Minnesota Territory
North-America.
“Who gave you this address?” asked the captain.
“An old woman on board the ship. Månsson is her son. She’s going to him and we’ll all be in the same company; they say there’s good land where her son lives.”
“You rely on the woman? What’s her name?”
“Fina-Kajsa. She is from Öland; her husband died in the first storm.”
Captain Lorentz suddenly straightened. “You mean the old woman who is so sick?”
“She is better now, she says; she feels so well in her body she’ll be able to go with the rest of us.”
“Then you’ll take the old woman in your company and be responsible for her?”
“Yes. She has money for her journey. And we’ll look after her as best we can. When we get there, perhaps her son will help us find land.”
The captain’s face had suddenly lightened; it was not the first time Providence had helped him out of a difficult dilemma. This time, apparently, Providence had chosen the farmer to get him out of his difficulty with Fina-Kajsa Andersdotter, and thus save his company three hundred dollars.
He handed the important piece of paper back to Karl Oskar.
“It’s a long way to the territory of Minnesota. About fifteen hundred English miles, I believe.”
“Is it so. . so. . far away?” Karl Oskar’s face fell, and he scratched his head with its unkempt hair, yellow as barley straw, grown very long during the voyage from Sweden.
“Of course, it’s only two hundred and fifty Swedish miles,” the captain hastened to assure him. He did not wish to frighten the farmer by dwelling on the journey’s length, but rather to encourage him to undertake it. He continued: Every time he had transported farmers in search of land he had advised them to go as deep as possible into America; the farther west they went, the richer the soil was, and the broader were the regions to choose from. Most of the distance they could travel on river steamboats.
“Two hundred and fifty miles! It isn’t exactly next door.”
The infinitely long road which had worried Karl Oskar at first had shrunk to one-sixth, but it was still two hundred and fifty times the distance from Korpamoen to Ljuder church. He thought to himself, he must be careful how he spoke of the distance to others in his company; it might dishearten them.
“I will arrange the contract for the journey,” Captain Lorentz assured him. “Including the Widow Andersdotter, there will be sixteen in your company?”
Karl Oskar had never seen this taciturn, unobliging man so talkative and willing to help as he was today. The captain spoke almost as to an equaclass="underline" Yes, he often arranged contracts with honest companies for transportation inland. His conscience bade him help immigrants leave New York as soon as possible; they couldn’t stay here in the harbor, they couldn’t settle in Battery Park. And he knew an honest Swedish man in New York whom he often asked to guide the immigrants and act as their interpreter. The man’s name was Landberg, he had once been carpenter on this very ship, the best carpenter Lorentz had ever had. But several years ago, when the captain was transporting a group of religious fanatics from Helsingland, followers of the widely known prophet Erik Janson, Landberg had been so taken by their religion that he had left the ship in New York and joined the group. After half a year, Landberg had lost faith in the prophet, who had plundered him. The poor man had been forced to flee from Janson’s tyranny penniless and practically naked. Landberg now earned his living by acting as interpreter and guide for Swedish immigrants. He spoke English fluendy, and it was Captain Lorentz’s custom to send for him as soon as the ship docked in New York. This time also he had notified the one-time carpenter, and Landberg had been given a pass by the health officer to come aboard the brig.
“How much would the interpreter cost?” Karl Oskar asked.
“It depends on the distance he must accompany you. I believe he charges three dollars for each grown person as far as Chicago.”
“Hmm. . Well, we can’t manage by ourselves. None of us can speak this tongue.”
The captain thought, to leave these poor, helpless peasants to shift for themselves would be almost like driving a flock of sheep into a forest full of wolves. He said, “If you would like speedy transport inland, you must take the steam wagon from Albany. Landberg will get contracts with all the companies concerned.”
“Thank you, Captain, for your great help.”
It had been reported to the captain during the voyage that this big-nosed peasant had been dissatisfied with his quarters, had complained of the small ration of water, and had been insubordinate to the ship’s officers. But Lorentz no longer disliked the man: Karl Oskar undoubtedly had a good head; and then, he was the tool of Providence.
“. . And you think the old woman is strong enough to be moved?”
“She says she is. She was on her feet again today.”
It was indeed strange; a few days ago the Widow Andersdotter had been shaking in every limb with the ague, fallen off to the very bones from diarrhea. But such miraculous recoveries had happened before, and even though Lorentz had little use for the customs of the North American Republic, he had to admit that the mere sight of the country worked like magic on people; one day they were lying in their bunks sighing and crying and ready to die, unable to lift head from pillow, and the next day they were on their feet again. When semi-corpses saw the shores of America, they returned to life.
— 3—
As Karl Oskar felt the new money in his belt, it seemed to him that a hundred and eighty-seven dollars was a poor exchange for five hundred and fifteen daler. His property had somehow shrunk on his arrival in America. And what he now carried in his belt was all he and his family owned in worldly possessions; it was all they could rely on for their future security.