Barkskins (61 page)

His hand lurched and coffee spilled. If she had said she wished to learn how to slaughter pigs she could not have startled him more.

“But my dear girl, there simply are no women in the timber trade. It is a man's affair from ax to beeswax. If you were a boy we might place you in one of the lumber camps for a season so you could know the work, but I can't imagine what role a girl—a woman—could have in the timber trade. I just cannot! Have you considered what you might do as a ‘timberwoman'?” He smiled at the preposterous image the word raised. She did not return the smile but scowled.

“Mother helped
her
father in his timber business. She learned a great deal and was considerable use in all those affairs. She said she even helped
you
when you came from commanding ships. Papa, I know I would be good at it. I am very good with mathematics. I could work out problems with board feet and measurements. I am good at compiling papers and sorting them into categories. I am interested in finance, in banks and loans, in credit and assets, in prices and factors that change them. I know I could do something of value. And I will not get married. Mama is harping on marriage day and night and I shall run away rather than marry. I am quite, quite serious about this. I think of nothing else. Why cannot I do something in the office of Duke and Sons? I know you have clerks—I could be a clerk. I would learn much that way. You say the company is going to open new offices in Detroit. I will be a part of this. I will!” Now she resembled Posey, eyes flashing dangerously, bosom heaving.

For a very brief second James considered how a lumber buyer might respond to such a display. Ye gods, he thought, ye gods, what can I do, what say? He ate the last piece of toast, very poor toast now, cold and somewhat sodden from spilled coffee.

“Lavinia. Give me several days to think about your surprising request. I will seriously consider how something might be arranged.”

The chance came sooner than he imagined. Lennart stopped by one May morning and begged James to go with him to the offices. “We have several applicants for clerical positions in Detroit and even two landlookers from New Hampshire. One of them has been as far west as Ohio. Clerks are another matter. Most of them are barely able to read, and as for ciphering—you might whistle.”

“I have a rather unusual applicant for a clerk,” said James. “Let me find my hat and I will tell you on the way.”

•  •  •

Armenius thought his cousin Dieter Breitsprecher was, aside from Hans Carl von Carlowitz, the best traveling companion he had ever known. Their large knapsacks were packed, they were ready for the wild forests. Armenius brought tobacco, not Cuban cigars but dark and tarry twists. Dieter carried his heavy .60 caliber
jaeger
rifle, and Armenius a new .50 caliber plains rifle with a beaver tail cheek piece—Dieter slavered over this gun and before they left he ordered one from the Missouri gunsmith.

“It will be my memento of this journey,” he said.

“You will have other mementos.”

The journey, familiar to Armenius, was full of shocks and wonders for Dieter. The Erie Canal boat was insufferably tiresome at four miles an hour. On fine days they ran along the towpath, sometimes ranging out to see the countryside. They had time for talk.

“The thing is,” said Armenius, “there is here a complete lack of knowledge of forest management. Americans do not understand shelter belts, they have never heard of thinning trees nor pruning them, they cannot believe that soil has anything to do with forests, nor water. Hedgerows? What an idea! They do not believe in hedgerows. Nor coppices. The most elemental precepts of forestry are as Chinese.”

“Surely they have some sense of soil erosion, so painfully obvious when it appears?”

“Not at all. They accept it as the natural order of the world. And although they choke in the fumes of the city they do not make a connection with the purer air in the forest. ‘Why is the air clean and fresh near the forest but not in the city?' one can ask. The answer is ‘Because God made it thus.' So extensive are the forests here that Americans cannot see an end to them. Therefore, they have no interest in preserving them.”

“Do not your employers see the economic advantages of maintained forests? Is there no reforestation at all?”

“None. They do not even leave seed trees in their vast cutover lands. One hard rain or a deep snow comes and the soil begins to run downhill like molten gold. If I say anything to the Dukes about commonsense ways to protect and repair their cut forestlands for the future they look at me as if I were mad. Well, perhaps I am mad. I hate aiding them in their quest to destroy every forest in North America.”

“This is quite sad. What are the most pressing uses here for cut timber? Houses, I suppose.”

“Railroad ties. I think that the railroads should manage private forests where they might grow trees for ties. But it is not done. They take down wild forests and transport the timber at high cost. Charcoal furnaces for smelting use uncountable numbers of trees. Moreover, every household consumes almost one hundred cords of wood during the long cold winters. The fireplaces here are large enough to roast an entire ox. But stoves are making an advance. And speaking of fires!
Mein Gott,
the forests are constantly on fire, but not controlled fire—the settlers set vast acreages ablaze to clear the way for farms and houses. Then, disappointed that the soil is poor, they move on west, always west, and do the same elsewhere. Not one in a hundred American farmers can tell you the characteristics of soils. The Indians were better managers of the forest than these settlers. They were very good observers of water, weather, all animals and growing things. And they forbore to cut lavishly. They used many parts of many trees for different tools and medicines, not unlike the old German peasantry.”

“I wonder you do not return to Germany,” said Dieter.

“Dieter, through no doing of my own I was born in this country. It is a population where each settler vies to be more of a
Nichtswisser
than his neighbor—learning is considered shameful—but I am used to it. It would be difficult to change. Besides, Germany now is not the Germany I have in my mind.”

“I wonder,” said Dieter.

“I want to see what happens next. Always this is my interest.”

•  •  •

In Detroit they spent a day walking about, passed a small plank-sided building with a sign that read
GENERAL LAND OFFICE MICHIGAN.

“Let us go in,” said Dieter. “I want to see what sort of man the recorder is.”

He was tall and pale from lack of sunlight, his eyes colorless and expressionless. He greeted them with a jerk of a smile. “What can I do for you? Land purchase today? A few town lots?” He stared at Armenius.

“No, not today. In a few weeks, perhaps. We are just getting our bearings,” he said.

“I think I have seen you here before,” said the man, “in the company of Mr. James Duke?”

“It is possible.”

“Yes, I believe he said you were his landlooker.”

“I was,” said Armenius.

“And you are no longer?” asked the man almost happily.

“No, I am yet, but I am on leave of absence just now. This is my cousin Dieter Breitsprecher, who is visiting. He is a forester from Germany. We are going to look at the timberland.”

“Right,” said the man. “This is the place for timber, yes it is.” There was a silence and the man, now gazing out the window, said almost dreamily that one of the federal surveyors and his chainman had stopped in the day before. “Dozens of surveyors measuring Michigan these days. And some like you coming to get hold of timberland.”

“Where are those surveyors working now?”

“Marking out townships. Northwest of where Mr. Duke purchased. They said the prospects for a timberman are even richer up north. I think to myself that I might buy a forty, could I ever have the money. Clerks make very little, you know, though the employment is steady.”

“May your wish be granted,” said Armenius, smiling like the famous cat who caught the mouse. He spoke kindly to this man remembering that James Duke had treated him as a servant, saying “Come, fellow, we haven't all day,” and ordering him to copy the papers out in a fair hand “instead of black claw marks as an ink-foot crow might make.”

“Are they surveying along the shore?” asked Dieter, looking at the map on the counter. The man nodded. “Along the shore, inland, along the rivers, almost to Mackinac—a huge amount of territory—all pinelands.” Armenius would have asked more questions but a man came to complain about the old French long lots in Detroit. “Like damn noodles,” he said. “Long, long skinny noodles. I want my money back.”

“Many thanks,” said Armenius to the clerk. “We may come back tomorrow and speak a little with you.”

“I look forward to that.”

They left and returned to their boardinghouse. “I could not follow all that was said,” said Dieter. “What is a ‘forty'? Is he giving us important information about the surveying?”

“A ‘forty' is a quarter of a quarter section—forty acres. And he was certainly giving us important information—and, I believe, asking for a bribe. We might modify our trip a little. I would like to see that northern region.”

“I would also like to see it. Perhaps you will not always be a landlooker for Duke and Sons. Let us find some dinner in this rough place. And talk with the clerk again tomorrow, then set out to find those wondrous pines.”

A day later they started their journey on two hired horses, one the yellow horse from Armenius's former trip. “At the junction we will bypass the trail to the Duke purchases and go north. Cousin, I mention that we will pass a stump farm that belongs to an incompetent farmer, Anton Heinrich. He has worn out two farms already and is quickly ruining the third. He has a quite pretty daughter. You have heard all the old stories about farmers' daughters? Yes, they are true. I lay with this girl but it was rather—I can't say. Maybe we stop there again.”

So Dieter discovered an unknown side of his cousin. Nor had he suspected he could speak so casually of bribes, for the clerk had made it clear when they returned the next day that information about the pines farther north should be rewarded. Armenius told him that if they found heavy timber to be there they would certainly stop in on their return and make an arrangement. His cousin had become an American.

•  •  •

The Heinrich log house came in sight. Moony, one of the dummkopf sons, was splitting stove wood, Kelmar, the other, stacking it on the listing porch. As they came nearer Moony slammed his ax into the chopping block and ran inside, calling, “Ma! Ma!” A woman with two small children clutching her skirts came out. Dieter thought she looked like a barn cat. She had been at her washtub and her hands were like wet roots.

“Hullo, Mistress Kristina,” said Armenius cheerfully. “Is Anton at home today?”

The woman gave a howl, threw her apron up over her face and lurched inside. Armenius and Dieter looked at each other. Moony edged closer and stood clenching and unclenching his hands.

“What is wrong? Where is your father? Anton. Is he here?” Armenius saw the daughter holding the hands of two more children. He stepped toward her and she stepped back.

Moony opened his mouth to speak, as though he had something to tell but didn't know how to go about it. Armenius looked at Kelmar.

“
Was ist los?
Tell me!” He remembered the two fools had a few words of English, a few words of
Deutsch
.

“Vater—”
said Kelmar forcefully. And again,
“Vater.”

“Ja?”
encouraged Armenius.

“Kaput,”
said Moony.

It was the girl who, keeping at a distance, told them a bizarre story. She looked only at Dieter and spoke to him in a low voice. If Armenius made a step in her direction she moved back. She said the father had been chopping trees with Moony and Kelmar. Father was not so quick. A big tree had fallen and pinned him to the ground. He cried for help. Moony and Kelmar came to him. They were strong. They seized the butt end of the tree and began to pull. They dragged the entire tree across Vater's body as he shrieked. At this point Moony, who had been listening and grinning, gave an imitation of Vater's agonizing cries.

“And where is he now?” asked Armenius.

“He did not live. That tree's branches tore his belly and his inside came outside when they pulled.”

“Kaput,”
said Moony.

“Fucked,” said Kelmar in clear English.

“Let us get away from this place,” said Dieter sotto voce. He did not like Moony and Kelmar and it was clear the girl was avoiding Armenius. The whole family seemed deranged. The thought came to him that his cousin might be something of a scoundrel. So?

•  •  •

They said nothing until dark fell and Armenius had a fire going.

He said, “I have never heard anything as stupid as that. Never. They could have trimmed the limbs and lifted it off him. They could have chopped away the crown and butt to small size. One could have pried it up while the other pulled the man out. They could have rigged a hoist.”

Dieter murmured, “Sometimes one must get tired of chopping trees endlessly.”

For the next ten days they walked through the great pines and Dieter became very quiet. Occasionally he scraped away the needles and examined the soil beneath the duff.

“You see?” said Armenius as they stood tiny and amazed in the kingdom of the pines.

“I do,” said Dieter as though pledging a marriage vow.

•  •  •

A decanter of brandy stood on a side table in Edward Duke's mahogany office. Edward was turning the pages of a thick sheaf of survey pages and locating them on a crisp, new-drawn map of Saginaw Bay's shoreline with the Duke & Sons sections neatly crosshatched in sepia ink. He had come to believe the exploration and discovery had all come about at his urging.