A Paradise Called Texas A BIRTHDAY GIFT
Chapter 14
Through the ocean's waves,
Cut off from the Fatherland
And many a bond of love
We have come hither.
On spirited mounts we cross
The hot prairies of Texas
And shorten the way with song
Which rings to this sound
Hail, Germany; Germany hail!
"What a fine group of young men," said Frau Kaufmann. "I
feel better already." Every day Papa and Herr Kaufmann went to the Sophienburg. Sometimes they returned with fresh meat and corn, and sometimes they returned empty handed.
A neighbor offered the use of his hand mill for grinding the corn. It was attached
to a tree beside his cabin, and Mina and Anna took turns grinding as the other poured
kernels into the black iron hopper on top of the mill.
When there was no corn distributed, they gathered acorns to grind instead.
On April fifth Mina awoke in the dark cabin, wondering if there would be anything
about today to make it special. It was her eleventh birthday. Papa was already building
up the fire. Mina dressed quickly, and came to the fire to put on her shoes and stockings.
"Well, happy birthday, my kleine Mina."
"Thank you, Papa."
He looked at her with a sad smile on his face. "My little girl is growing up
before my eyes."
"Papa, I think I will go out and gather acorns this morning for bread."
"Very well, Mina, but ask Anna to go with you. And do not wander far from the
settlement. There are Indians in the hills."
Mina knew that was true, for sometimes at night they could see Indian fires dotting
the hillside. Mina felt curious about those campfires, but at the same time her scalp
prickled at the thought of the savage Indians gathered about, gnawing and tearing
at their food like animals.
"All right, Papa."
Mina and Anna walked over to Comal Creek, and followed along its winding bank. Big
oaks grew here, and the girls began to gather acorns. Mina made a pouch with her apron and walked along picking up acorns here and there. Not many were to be found, as most had already been picked up by others or eaten by animals. So they had to go farther and farther. The creek was so clear, and the sun so warm that they sat down on the bank to watch the little fish that darted about. Mina dipped her hands and took a drink of the cool water.
"We had better go back, Mina. It is getting late."
"You go on, Anna, I want to find some more acorns."
"No, your Papa said we should stay together."
They wandered on a little farther, coming closer and closer to the hills when Mina
heard a sound like the hooting of an owl. Somehow it did not sound exactly right.
Then another owl answered.
A pang of fear shot through Mina, though she did not know why. She stood still, hardly
breathing. Her eyes searched the woods. She turned her head slowly and looked to
her left, to the right. And then she saw him-the Indian. Her heart began pounding
wildly.
He stood on a rocky rise near the creek, tall and sinewy with a red robe draped around
his waist. His long black hair, partly encased in a silver tube, draped over one
shoulder, and only a silver breastplate covered his chest. He held a lance at arm's
length propped on the ground.
Mina dropped her apron, and the acorns scattered to the ground. Her hands flew to
her mouth and stifled a scream.
Anna turned and ran, screaming over her shoulder, "Run, Mina, run for your life."
But Mina stood stock still, paralyzed at the sight. This was the Indian of her wildest
thoughts. What would he do? Did he want her blond scalp to decorate his tipi? Mina could not move, could not run.
His dark eyes were strangely piercing, for the lashes and brows had been plucked
out, and a stripe of blue paint blazed across his forehead and over his eyelids.
He made a sound, a word, and took his long hank of black hair in his hand.
Mina caught her breath. What did he want?
Then the tall Indian laid down his spear before him, stepped over it and came toward
Mina. Her heart beat wildly, out of control. He took one of her blond braids in his
hand and looked at it closely. Mina held her breath. Was he going to scalp her? She
jerked her braid out of his hand.
He stepped back and motioned with his arm for someone to come. There was a rustling
in the bushes, and an Indian woman and girl appeared riding on a horse. The Indian
said something to the girl. She slid off the horse and came to him. She had on a
deerskin skirt and poncho that were fringed, and a blue and white beaded belt. She
looked at Mina, her dark eyes curious, but friendly. Mina felt less afraid. Her heart
slowed its wild beating. The girl was Mina's age, and they looked at each other eye
to eye.
The man spoke a word to the girl, and she undid the belt, holding it in her outstretched
hand toward Mina. Mina took the belt in one hand, and it glittered in the sunlight. The girl said some words Mina could not understand. Then she smiled. She touched her own hair, pointed at Mina's hair and back at herself. Her other hand was clenched over something, and she offered it to Mina. It was a piece of bone sharpened like a knife on one edge. The girl held a hank of her own hair, and pretended to cut off a piece with the bone. She pointed again to Mina's hair.
"You want a piece of my hair?" Mina asked. "You want to trade?"
The girl had a puzzled look on her face.
That is it, thought Mina. She only wants a lock of my hair. Mina laid the belt on
the ground, and took the bone from the girl. Pulling one of her braids taut in front
of her face, she sawed at the loose hair just above the ribbon. The bone was quite
sharp, and quickly made the cut. She pulled her other braid around, and did the same.
The two tufts of hair, each tied with ribbon, she held in the open palms of her hands
toward the girl.
"Here," said Mina.
The girl took the two tufts of hair, turned them about before her eyes, stroked them.
She looked at Mina, smiled, and turned to her father, handing him the blond locks.
He examined them carefully.
The Indian girl knelt and began to pick up the acorns which Mina had spilled, offering
them in her outstretched palms to Mina, smiling. Mina was no longer frightened. She
made a pouch of her apron, and together she and the Indian girl picked up all the
acorns. Then Mina put the blue beaded belt on top.
Pointing to herself, the Indian girl said, "A-ma-ya."
Mina touched herself with her forefinger and spoke her name, "Mi-na," slowly.
The girls looked at each other silently for a moment.
"Goodbye, Amaya." Mina took one last look at the Indian family. She turned
and began to run toward home, clutching her apron in one hand. She stopped to look
back once, and waved. The Indians stood just as she had left them, watching her.
Mina turned and ran on toward the cabin.
