The Kaufmanns were waiting by the wagon when Mina and Papa returned.
"Now, Eva," Papa said to Frau Kaufmann, "you and the baby will ride, and we will walk. I think the girls may take turns riding if they get tired.
Is that agreeable with you?"
"Very well, Ernst." She climbed into the wagon holding the baby.
Papa stood beside the oxen holding onto the yoke. "All right, get up,"
Papa slapped one of the oxen on the rump.
The wagon creaked as the big wheels began to turn. Papa carried his shotgun over
his shoulder, and walked with Herr Kaufmann. Mina and Anna took hands, and
began to skip along beside the plodding oxen, swinging their arms and singing, "New
Braunfels we are com-ing, New Braunfels we are com-ing." Then Mina turned to Papa. "Papa why is it that we go to New Braunfels instead of our land?"
"Well, Mina, we do not know where our land is or whether we even have any land.
So, we must go to New Braunfels where the Verein has its headquarters. There
we will find out what to do, and I will give the Commissioner General a piece of
my mind for allowing his countrymen to be stranded on the beach."
"Papa, do you think Anna and I will be neighbors?"
Papa chuckled. "That we shall have to wait and see."
Miles and miles of flat grassy prairie spread out before them without a tree in sight.
The sea, the miserable beach and tents were behind. Here and there were low marshy
ponds like silver mirrors in the grass. Long legged white birds were standing in
the shallow waters fishing with their beaks. As the wagon approached the birds unfolded
their wings, and rose sharply in flight, legs dangling below them.
They walked all day long. Mina was too tired to skip and dance anymore. Anna was
riding in the wagon with her mother. Mina looked down at her feet. They felt very
sore on the bottoms, and her right shoe was rubbing her little toe. "You just
keep on going," she commanded them to herself, "left, right, left, right."
In the late afternoon they saw the first trees on the horizon-like giant bushes. "That must be Chocolate Creek," Papa said, "that Herr Lange
talked about."
"Ja, it will be a good camping site for tonight," Herr Kaufmann
suggested.
As they came to the small creek at last, Mina saw that the water was muddy.
"Now I know why it is called Chocolate Creek. Look at the water!"
Anna wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue.
"Mmm," Mina licked her lips and rubbed her stomach. "We can heat it
up and have hot chocolate for supper. How delicious!"
The grassy winding bank looked like a cozy place to sleep, protected from the wind
and sheltered by the giant spreading trees.
"Come, Anna, let us gather some wood for a fire." Mina began to fill her
skirt with twigs.
Papa was loading his gun as Herr Kaufmann unhitched the oxen to let them graze.
"I will try to get us a prairie chicken for supper. You girls keep in that direction."
Papa pointed downstream. "And do not make noise."
"Ja, Papa."
The sun was low and making silhouettes of the tree branches when they got the campfire
started, using the flint. Then a shot rang out. Somehow Mina knew that Papa's hunt
had been successful. Before long she heard the swish, swish of Papa walking through
the grass. When he strode into the light of the campfire he was holding a plump prairie
chicken by the neck. He smiled broadly as he stood there so erect, feet apart, the
chicken held proudly at arm's length. "How do you manage to be such a good hunter?" Herr Kaufmann asked.
"Well, I tell you, Heinrich, when it is necessary, one learns to do what one
has never done before."
That night Mina went to sleep on the soft grass. Her hunger was satisfied. But as
the fire died down she began to feel the loneliness of the prairie creep in. It was
very dark; no moon was out. Papa covered the coals to keep them hot for morning.
Darkness spread all about, and it seemed to Mina that they were the only people on
earth. It was frightening to be on the cold, dark side of the earth in the middle
of a wilderness.
Mina was awakened early by doves cooing to one another. It was a lovely sad sound,
and she lay there in her blanket listening as daylight returned. Papa and Herr
Kaufmann had a fire going. Frau Kaufmann was tending the baby who had begun
to fret and cry.
"Anna, are you awake?" asked Mina. The bundled form next to her began to
move like a giant caterpillar about to emerge as a butterfly.
"Ja, Mina."
Papa had made coffee which they drank with some ship's biscuits that Doctor Reuss
had brought.
"We must move on to Victoria," Papa said. "Herr Lange told
me we could purchase some supplies there for the rest of our journey."
It would take two more days to reach Victoria. Mina's legs moved automatically now,
without her will- left, right, and carried her along. The baby began to cry more
and sleep less.
"I am afraid she has a fever, Heinrich," said Frau Kaufmann. "Her
forehead is hot."
The day had turned cloudy-low rippled clouds, and the wind was chilling. Baby Elizabeth's crying chilled Mina too. Even the oxen seemed saddened by the crying, and their heads hung low under the weight of the yoke. If only we could get to Victoria, Mina thought.
"Papa, do you think there will be a doctor in Victoria?"
"I hope so, Mina." Papa did not look at her as she walked beside him. He
looked straight ahead, not allowing Mina to know his thoughts. His wide mouth was
grimly set.
But that night the baby cried and cried. No one slept. Mina lay with her eyes open,
seeing nothing. The tiny shallow cry became weaker and weaker. And then with a gasp,
it stopped altogether.
The momentary stillness was broken by Frau Kaufmann's anguished cry, "My
baby, oh God, my baby. She has stopped breathing."
Mina put her hands over her ears. She did not want to hear. When she took them away,
she heard Frau Kaufmann crying while Herr Kaufmann repeated over and
over, "Why, why did I bring you to this terrible land?"
Why, indeed? wondered Mina. It had seemed like a great adventure to her once, but
now . . .
Mina did not know she fell asleep, but suddenly it was dawn. She had that heavy feeling-after falling asleep sad. Frau Kaufmann was weeping as she wrapped little Elizabeth in a blanket. They buried her beneath the feathery bush tree where they had camped. Papa found a flat stone and scratched the letters E M K with the point of his knife
and placed it at the head of the grave.
They bowed their heads. Mina put her arm around Anna's shoulders as Herr Kaufmann spoke a prayer.
Father, we leave a part of ourselves,
Our beloved Elizabeth,
Here under the boughs of this tree.
Show us the way,
Give us the strength
To go on . . .
Amen.
Herr Kaufmann led his wife to the wagon, his arm around her. Her face was
hidden in her hands.
They walked or rode silently that day, and took turns riding beside poor Frau
Kaufmann who was, in turn, weeping quietly as the wagon bumped along, or looking
grimly ahead.
Beside the road they began to see abandoned possessions scattered along the way-bundles
of clothing, cooking pots and utensils, a tattered blanket. Then a little distance
off the road Mina saw the mound of a grave, and then another. At the sight of the
graves Frau Kaufmann began to sob again. Herr Kaufmann, sitting beside
her, had tears in his eyes as his wife laid her head on his shoulder.
Mina felt cold inside. Death was becoming their constant companion, and she could
feel it hovering over them, threatening.
"Papa, are those graves of people who left Indian Point earlier?" She already
knew the answer. Papa put his arm around her as they walked sadly along.
"Mina, you and I are strong. We will survive this trial. We will endure."
Papa straightened his shoulders and seemed to become taller. "And then, better
days will come, remember that, better days will come."
"I will, Papa." Tears rolled down Mina's cheeks. She wiped them off with the back of her hand as they walked along silently. She squared her shoulders and tilted up her chin. The creak of the wagon was the only sound.