Drums Along the Mohawk Read Online Free PDF Page A

undressed.
    It was odd that in the morning she felt fidgety under Mr. Rose’s eyes as they prepared to leave the inn. Mr. Rose brought a small book of blank paper and a pen. He said apologetically, “The way George Herkimer’s rangers check up on a man he has to keep record of whoever stays in his place. Would you just sign your name, Mr. Martin?”
    Gil complied. He took the pen and filled in beside the date, “Gilbert Martin and wife, Magdelana.”
    Watching round his arm, Lana thought it marked the beginning of a life. She wondered whether she had pleased him, and now she was thinking, whatever came, it would be her duty to please him, and she swore a small oath to herself that she would always be a good wife to him.
    The mare went slowly and the cow kept up to the cart without trouble. They passed through the German Flats where the new fort was being built. It was called Dayton, after the colonel in charge. Peeled logs were being skidded down from the spruce-covered hills behind the village; and soldiers, militia, and hired farmers were working together at setting the stockade.
    Gil must have seen her watching it as they went past, for shortly after they had left the settlement behind, he came up beside the cart. He had been silent all morning, and now as she looked down into his face he seemed to her to be troubled.
    “How are you?” he said, fetching a grin.
    She smiled back timidly, wanting to ask him what was worrying him.
    “Just fine.”
    He said, “It isn’t so far now. It’s not above fifteen miles.” He looked at her again. “We ought to get there before dark, Lana.”
    “That will be nice,” she said.
    She looked so pretty and young to him, high up on the cart, with her feet in their cloth shoes demurely side by side. Her face was shaded by a calico bonnet to match her short gown. Her hair curved away under the wide brim; it was almost black. When she met his look, she flushed a little, and her brown eyes grew solemn. He thought of her gay light-heartedness, and he looked ahead to where the road entered the woods towards the Schuyler settlement. But instead of saying what was on his mind, he described the place to her.
    “They’ve got nice bottom land. And they’ve built big framed houses. You’ll like it, Lana, I think.”
    She said, “The country’s nice.”
    They lunched before they came to Schuyler, by a little stream in a patch of hemlocks, eating bread and cheese side by side on the carpet of short brown needles and tossing crumbs to the chipmunks. It was cool there, for the trees held the sunlight far above them. In front of them the mare drowsed in the shafts and the cow found a cud to chew.
    Looking at the cart, Lana imagined placing her things in the cabin before dark.
    “Will we set the bed up downstairs,” she said, “or put it in the loft?” He looked at her. “I’ve heard Mother say that in the cabinswhen she first came to Klock’s they sometimes had the bed set up in the kitchen.”
    If he was worrying about her, she would show him that she was prepared.
    “You’re not scared coming west so far with me, like this?”
    She shook her head.
    “It’ll be different from living in a house.” He poked the needles with a stick. “It seemed so fine to me, because I built it, that I didn’t think it might look different to a girl who was raised in a big house like yours.”
    He was trying to prepare her.
    “Mother started the same way,” she said. “In a few years we’ll have all those things. But beginning this way, Gil, we’ll like them better when we get them.” She glanced sidewise. “I’ve always thought it would be nice living in a cabin. It’ll be handy to look after if it’s small.”
    He said, “It ain’t much cleared.”
    “We won’t have to buy much now,” she added. “Mother was awfully good to me.”
    He touched her hand.
    Quite unexpectedly they came out on Schuyler. The open land, well cleared and cultivated, with men mowing hay along the