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A Paradise Called Texas

Chapter 14

A BIRTHDAY GIFT



By morning the rain had stopped. Mina crawled out and went down to the river. Two men were preparing to loose the ferry. Holding on to the rope which stretched across the river, they guided it safely to shore.

Papa and Herr Kaufmann hitched up the wagon, and they rode across on the ferry. On the other side the oxen had to strain to pull the wagon up the bank. Mina and the Kaufmanns pushed the wagon from behind until they reached level ground.

There before them was the village of New Braunfels -wooden houses of different sizes were scattered about among the trees on a small flat plain. It had the raw, temporary look of an army encampment. Still, with smoke coming from the chimneys it was a comforting sight. In the distance were rolling cedar covered hills, and to the left, rising out of the plain, was one low hill with a log building perched atop, overlooking the village.

Papa and Herr Kaufmann paid the ferryman.

"Can you direct us to the Verein headquarters?" asked Herr Kaufmann.

"Ja, sure. You see that building on the hill? That is the Sophienburg."

"Ah, so." Papa looked in that direction and nodded his head.

"Thank you very much," said Herr Kaufmann.

"You will find the Commissioner General of the Verein there-Meusebach," the ferryman continued.

The streets were muddy and rutted, and the oxen had hard work to pull the wagon along. When they arrived at the foot of the Sophienburg, Papa and Mina walked up the hill, leaving the Kaufmanns to watch over the wagon and oxen. As they approached the long low cabin, a man came out the door and stood on the porch, his hands clasped behind his back. He looked to be about Papa's age, and he had red hair and a full red beard.

"Are you Baron von Meusebach?" Papa asked, walking toward the porch.

"Ja, but I have dropped the Baron. Here in Texas I am simply John O. Meusebach, at your service."

"Well, you are a little late to be of service," Papa said bitterly. "I am Ernst Jordan. I paid my money to the Verein to come to Texas, only to find hundreds of Germans stranded on the beach with no way to travel inland. They are dying every day."

Meusebach shook his head sadly. "Ja, it is a terrible situation. The rains, and now the government takes all the wagons." He looked up at Papa. "We need more money to buy our own wagons, and I am determined to get it." "It will be too late for many, as it was for my wife." Papa looked away. "The promises sounded so good back in Germany . . . so we came, only to find those promises were empty."

Mina had never seen Papa so angry. He was usually such a patient man. Papa's eyes were fastened intently on Herr Meusebach, and he stood proud and straight.

"Herr Jordan, I am working day and night to make good those promises. There are problems, but the Verein has good intentions."

"Very well, we are here to claim our land."

Herr Meusebach stepped down from the porch and came closer to them.

"Herr Jordan, the land to which you are entitled is still inhabited by Indians. Come, let us go inside and I will show you a map."

Indians! thought Mina. Had they come so far only to be turned back by Indians? Mina shivered.

In the middle of a long room stood a roughhewn table, and upon it was a map.

"Our plan is to establish a string of colonies closer and closer to the land grant, here." He circled the spot on the map. "Here is New Braunfels . . . the next colony is to be here." Herr Meusebach looked up at Papa's face. "We have surveyed this spot, and divided it up into one-acre town lots and ten-acre farming lots."

"That is far less than we were promised."

"Ja, that is true. But as soon as a treaty can be made with the Comanches, you will get your land also. Now, my advice to you, Herr Jordan, is to join the first group of settlers going to this new colony, which will be called Fredericksburg. Preparations are being made to leave by the end of this month."

"Very well." Papa drew a deep breath. "Until then, you may camp in a vacant cabin that stands just off the square." He pointed it out to Papa. Then he gave them a sack of corn and some venison. "Provisions are distributed here each day at ten o'clock when available."

The cabin had one door in the front and small openings for windows, but no glass in them. There was a chimney at one end. Inside it was dark and damp with only a dirt floor. But with a fire popping and sparking on the hearth, and blankets hung for privacy, it seemed cozy to Mina. Frau Kaufmann cooked in the fireplace, and Mina and Anna helped her. For a table they used one of the boxes brought from Germany, and placed logs around it for chairs.

That first evening they were surprised to hear singing in the street, and ran outside. There came a group of Verein soldiers marching along in their tall riding boots. They had swords buckled on and carried rifles over their shoulders. As they drew closer Mina could hear the words to their song:

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.



"Papa, Papa," Mina called as she saw him up ahead, running toward her. Anna and her parents were right behind.

"Mina!" Papa held out one arm for her to fly into. In the other he carried the shotgun.

"Papa, oh Papa," but Mina was so out of breath she could hardly continue. "Indians!" She pulled the blue beaded belt out of her apron for all to see. "Look, Papa, a present for my birthday from the Indians."



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