Read Wild Heart on the Prairie (A Prairie Heritage, Book 2) for Free Online Page B

the Nebraska Territory, but Jan and
Karl had read things in the Norwegian papers about statehood coming, perhaps
soon, for parts of this vast land.
    Elli looked down and shuddered. The river churning beneath their
feet was a thick, muddy brown from upstream runoff. As placid as the wide river
appeared on the surface, they had been told of its treacherous currents. A man
falling into the river might be sucked down into the silty waters and not
resurface for miles. Elli gripped Kristen tighter.
    When they reached the other side, the ferrymen herded them
off and began the task of unloading the ferry’s cargo into a holding enclosure.
Jan and Karl made sure everything of theirs was stacked together and that nothing
was missing. Over the rails of the enclosure, wagon masters clamored for their
business.
    “Is there a Svens Jensen?” Jan hollered in Riksmaal.
    “Here!” A wiry man with sandy colored hair and a great beard
pushed his way toward them. “I am Svens Jensen. Are you Norwegian then?”
    “ Ja ,” Jan returned. He introduced Karl. “Olafsson
told us to look for you. Said you were a good man.”
    Jensen stroked his beard and laughed. “ Ja ; I treat my
customers well and my friends even better. Come! What do you have for me to
haul?”
    The Thoresens and Jensen began to shift the Thoresens’ cargo
to his wagon.
    “ Pappa .” Søren’s crestfallen face peered up at Jan.
    “What is it, Sønn ?”
    “ Pappa , the pigs. Two have died.” Tears stood in his
eyes.
    Jan and Karl quickly ran to the pigs’ crates. Sure enough, two
of the weaners lay dead inside their crates. The other three looked fine and
squealed, hoping to receive some food.
    Karl took one of the dead pigs out of its crate and looked
it over. “I cannot tell why it died,” he muttered darkly, “so now we must keep
the rest separate from each other.”
    Jan nodded in agreement. If the pigs had died of something
infectious, their best chance of keeping any alive was to keep them from each
other.
    Jan noted that one of the dead pigs was a male. Their hope to
establish a herd of their father’s Landrace pigs in America depended on keeping
at least one of each gender alive. They now had two females and one male
remaining.
    While Søren disposed of the dead piglets, the men washed
their hands and separated the pigs’ crates from each other. When the cargo was
reloaded into a new freight car late that afternoon, Karl and Jan took pains to
place each crate as far from the others as possible. They both carefully washed
their hands after handling one crate and before touching another.
    Karl secured a second car from the freight master before
leaving the rail yard. Then Jensen drove them past a hardware store and gave them
directions to the stock yards before delivering them to a boardinghouse.
    “This store is owned by Petter Rehnquist, a Swede,” Jensen told
them, pointing to it. “If you have questions, he will help you. Tell him I sent
you!” He scratched under his beard. “Maybe he will let his boy, Sauli, take you
around. He speaks English and could help you a lot.”
    “We thank you, Herr Jensen, for all of your help and
kindness. God bless you,” Jan said.
    He and Karl shook Jensen’s hand with real gratitude as they
parted. They would remain in Omaha until they had bought and loaded everything
into the two freight cars. It would be an arduous undertaking.
    In yet another boardinghouse not far from the rail yard, the
two Thoresen families bathed and rested that night. Jan and Karl worked on the
list of supplies and other necessities to buy on the morrow. Elli and Amalie
composed a list of staples and other foods the families would need for their
journey and after they reached their land.
     
    Over breakfast Karl and Jan planned their day. “We should go
to the hardware store first,” Karl suggested, “and introduce ourselves. It
would be good if the hardware man’s sønn comes with us to the stock
yards, don’t you think?”
    Jan