XXII. “MOTHER, I WANT BREAD!”
— 1—
One of the Swedish homesteads had been given a name — New Kärragärde — and Danjel suggested that Karl Oskar ought to follow his example and call his farm New Korpamoen, after his childhood home in Sweden. But Karl Oskar answered: Korpamoen was the last name he would wish to give his new home; he had no desire to be thus constantly reminded of the six years he had thrown away among the stone piles in Sweden. He did not wish for a new Korpamoen in America, he had had enough of the old one; they would find a more suitable name for their home in due time — the christening of a piece of land was not so urgent as the christening of a baby; it was, after all, only a patch of earth, not a human soul.
Danjel also felt they ought to change the name of Ki-Chi-Saga. How could they live near a lake with such an outlandish heathen name? Couldn’t they think of some pious Swedish word which a Christian could take in his mouth without distaste? Karl Oskar replied that as he lived on a small arm of the lake, he felt it would be presumptuous for him to change the name of the whole lake. As yet he was the only settler here; when he had neighbors on the shores, they would all think of a new name for Lake Ki-Chi-Saga.
The winter had made it easier for the Swedish settlers to visit back and forth. The frozen snow made a firm road, and they gave each other a hand whenever needed. Ulrika came frequently to the log house at Ki-Chi-Saga to see how her godson fared after his christening. Once she was accompanied by Swedish Anna, and the two women had a violent dispute about sectarians and heretics. Swedish Anna began: “I’m ever thankful to the Lord for saving the child from that Anabaptist in Stillwater!”
Ulrika flared up and threatened dire happenings if Swedish Anna dared say ill of Pastor Jackson. No one could have anything but good to say about that man; he was so helpful, kind, merciful, that it was hard to believe he was a minister; he had even taken the pail from her hands and fetched water himself. It was nobody’s business what religion he preached, Lutheran or Baptist, Methodist or Jansonist. When a man like Jackson preached, any religion became the right one. Swedish Anna need not bring up the subject again. Ulrika herself had been a sectarian ever since she came to live with Danjel; she would have been happy to have her godson baptized by Jackson in Stillwater, nay, she wouldn’t hesitate for a moment to have such a minister baptize her too!
Swedish Anna started in horror: Ulrika had been led astray from the true Lutheran religion, had been snared already by the Evil One in his heresies! Didn’t she know that only the Lutherans had the right religion and lived according to the Ten Commandments of the stone tablets?
How did the Lutherans live in Sweden! exclaimed Ulrika. God’s commandments were only for paupers and simple folk! The ministers never dared say one word against the nobles, or correct them in any way. If the high and mighty lords broke every one of God’s commandments a hundred times a day, they would never be rebuked from the pulpit. And if the Bishop from Vaxio on his visits to the parishes raped every parsonage maid until the bottom fell out of the bed, not one priest in the whole chapter would object. Yes, if the Swedish King himself should break God’s commandments, and if besides this he were degenerate and committed vices against nature, all the priests would still bow to him, as low as ever, and praise him, and pray for him every Sunday according to the words of the prayer book — even though they knew the truth, for it was the King who gave them the parishes. Such were the Lutheran clergy in Sweden, Ulrika stated, and such they would remain.
But Swedish Anna was a strict Lutheran; the two women could not be friends.
During the Christmas holidays Jonas Petter had gossiped to Kristina that Anders Månsson intended to marry Ulrika of Västergöhl. Next time Ulrika came to visit, Kristina asked her if this were true.
“It’s true. Månsson wants to marry me.”
“May I congratulate you on your luck, Ulrika?”
“No!” exclaimed the Glad One. “I have no intention of marrying Månsson!”
“But he is a good and kind man,” insisted Kristina.
“He’s good and kind. But he isn’t a man. No, he’s not for me.”
Kristina felt sorry in some way for Fina-Kajsa’s son; he had lived alone for so long in this wilderness; and he was sparing with his words, closemouthed, as if carrying a great sorrow. Perhaps he regretted his emigration even though he wouldn’t admit it. Karl Oskar had many times remarked that something must be wrong with Anders Månsson, he had done so little to improve his homestead. He barely managed — this winter he had borrowed thirty dollars from Danjel; having been here almost five years, Månsson ought to have reached a stage when borrowing no longer was necessary — if he had the right stuff in him. There must be some secret about Anders Månsson, Karl Oskar had said, but he was unable to guess what it was.
Ulrika admitted that Fina-Kajsa’s son had been good to all of them when they arrived last summer without a roof over their heads; he was a kindhearted man; and he had a home to offer her. But each time she shook his hand she felt he wasn’t exactly the way men should be. Something was missing, either in his head, or in his spine, or between his legs; something was missing that a man should have. Ulrika said this was only her feeling, but she usually felt aright: she had learned to know menfolk inside and out. Moreover, here in America there were so many men to choose from she needn’t take the first suitor to approach her. She had not been here long, she wanted time to think it over before she chose her man. God would surely help her find the right one when the time came to stand as bride.
But Ulrika had consoled Anders Månsson to the best of her ability. Thus, she had promised never to divulge his rejected proposal, and she had held to her promise — she was not the sort of low person who would brag about being in demand. But Anders Månsson had made the mistake of asking Jonas Petter to intercede for him, and that loose-mouthed gossip had of course not been able to keep it to himself. Jonas Petter also would undoubtedly have proposed to her, if he hadn’t already had a wife in Sweden; she could feel that he was much in need of a woman. Ulrika knew menfolk, she knew them all right. .
While the snow crust still held, Karl Oskar, Danjel, and Jonas Petter walked through the forest to Stillwater to register their claims of land. The Swedish settlers used the few English words they had picked up when they reported to the land office that they were squatters within the Minnesota Territory; they were also able to tell in a general way where their claims were located. A man in the office told them that next summer a surveyor would be sent to their part of the forest.
While in Stillwater they also bespoke and paid for seed grain for the coming spring. Karl Oskar spent the last of his cash for rye, barley, and potatoes; the last of the money he got from the sale of his farm and livestock in Sweden was now spent for spring seed, from which he hoped to reap a fall harvest to feed them next winter.
From Stillwater, Danjel and Jonas Petter continued south to St. Paul in order to buy in partnership a yoke of oxen, while Karl Oskar, now without funds, returned home. Five days later his neighbors came back with a pair of young oxen, measuring eleven and a half hands, which they had bought for seventy-five dollars. The animals had been part of a herd, driven from Illinois to St. Paul. They were unbroken and could not yet be used for hauling. Karl Oskar was promised the loan of the team for the spring plowing.
During the walk from St. Paul in the intense cold, Jonas Petter’s nose became frostbitten, and he had had to stay over in Stillwater for a few days to seek a doctor.