Karl was at the moment lying nose to nose with his wife. He had her by both breasts. "There is not a handful in both of these together," he was whispering.
"You didn't seem to mind last night," she whispered back.
"Did I say I minded?"
She faked a heavy Swedish accent and whispered, "If you-us-us vant a vife who-o-o is shaped like a moo-o-ose and has bu-us-us-soms like vatermelons, you vill haff to go back to Sveden. This vun has only two-o-o little blu-us-us-berries."
Karl had to put his face somewhere to stifle the laughter, so he plunged it into her two little bu-us-soms.
"But, Anna, I told you, blueberries are my favorite," he said when he was able.
"You-us-us don't foo-o-o-like me! I know you-us-us!"
"A man cannot help having a favorite."
"Ya, favorite, says this foo-o-o-like. He should remember that if he did not have hands like sou-us-us-people plates, they would be fu-us-us-little right now!"
Another spasm of laughter grabbed Karl. Beneath his hands, he felt Anna's breasts bounce with laughter, too. "And if you were not so busy being smart to your new husband, you might have your hands full, too." He captured her hand and placed it upon his genitals.
"Ya, su-us-us-re," Anna said, her Swedish accent beautiful by this time, "like I said, he is a foo-o-o-like. Vith the sun up and his brother-in-law on the floor, he vakes up like a ripe cu-us-us-cumber!"
This time they couldn't keep it quiet any more. They laughed in audible snorts while Karl engulfed Anna in his big, powerful arms and they rolled back and forth, bubbling over with joy.
"What are you two doing up there?" James asked from the floor.
"We are talking about gardening," Karl answered.
"So early in the morning?" James wasn't misled. He knew things were going to be great around here from now on!
"Ya. I was just telling Anna how much I love blueberries and she was telling me how she loves cu –“ The rest of Karl's word was muffled as Anna clapped her hand over Karl's mouth.
Then James heard more giggling, and the cornhusks snapping like they'd never snapped before, and many grunts and sounds of playful battle. But James wisely kept his back to the bed as he got up and went outside to the washbench. He was smiling from ear to ear.
* * *
Karl was right; the Indians showed up in the clearing before breakfast, looking longingly at the kiln. What else could they do but invite them to stay for breakfast? Thankfully, there were only three this time, so only one of their precious loaves had to be shared. Karl took his axe outside. Anna, James and the three visitors watched as he rapped on the kiln and broke it open. The fourteen loaves were gloriously brown and still warm.
"Tonka Squaw cook good bread," Two Horns complimented when he tasted it.
"Two Horns shoots fat pheasants," she returned. And with her words, peace was made between Anna and the Indians. Karl did not find it necessary to clear up who had made the bread. Instead, he let Anna bask in the Indians' obvious admiration of her. To them she would always be Tonka Squaw, Big Woman, and Karl was proud of her for earning the honorary title. Now that Anna understood the import of it, she was congenial to them.
She found it strange that Karl still said in spite of their friendship the Indians would steal food if the house was left untended. Just as the Indians believed no man owned the birds of the air, they believed no man owned the wheat of the land. If they wanted white bread, they would come in and take it. If they wanted white potatoes, they would come in and take them. But their sense of honor would keep them out if they saw the warning block of wood wedged against the door.
Breakfast with the Indians made for a late start that day, but it didn't matter. The trio were in high spirits, for this was the day the hewing began in earnest, and nothing could rival the excitement they all felt. Anna was glowing. Karl was energetic. James was eager. All in time for the day the actual walls began going up.
Karl brought out his keenly sharpened foot adz and began hewing, explaining the art that seemed dangerous to both Anna and James. Standing upon a tamarack log, Karl used short strokes, which swept toward the toe of his boot. Anna was horrified to realize the blade actually bit into the wood beneath Karl's boot with each swipe. He moved forward a mere three inches after each stroke, making his way along the length of the log to leave behind a creamy, flat surface.
"Karl, you'll hurt yourself!" she scolded.
"Do you think so?" he questioned, eyeing the cleanly hewed wood, then curling his boot toes up. "A proper adzman can split the sole of his boot into two layers without touching either the timber beneath it or the toes inside it. Shall I show you?"
"No!" she yelped. "You and your logger's ego!"
"But it is so, Anna."
"I don't care. I would rather have you with ten toes than an award for splitting soles!"
"Your sister likes my toes," Karl said smilingly to James, "so I guess I cannot prove to her they are in no danger." Then, to Anna again, he said, "Come, help James and me roll this log over."
Together the three of them strained, using braces with which to roll the log onto its flat side so Karl could adz the topside. Then, with no more than six deft strokes, he removed a cleanly rectangular half notch some eight inches from one end of the log. He did the same at the other end, and together the trio worked to raise it onto the foundation. Always there was a perfect fit to receive, a perfect fit to enter.
During those days, as the walls grew higher, Karl made sexual innuendo out of even the fit of the notches. These were days of grueling work, of sweat-stained clothing, of hot, stinging muscles, but of satisfaction.
Everything to Karl was a source of satisfaction. Whether he was showing James the proper way to drive the blunt side of an axe poll into a kerf to hold it secure for sharpening or measuring the distance between notches by axe lengths or fitting the newly notched log securely onto the last or pausing for a drink of spring water--to Karl the living of life was a precious thing. In all he did, he taught the most important lesson of all: life must not be squandered. A person got from life what he put into it. If even the most arduous labor was looked upon benevolently, it would offer countless rewards.
He would raise one more level of logs, sit straddling the wall up above their heads, slap that log soundly, and say, "This will be a magnificent house! See how straight these tamaracks lie?" Sweating, hair plastered to the sides of his head, muscles hot and trembling from the massive effort of placing the log just perfectly, he found glory in this honorable task.
Below him, Anna would gaze up, shading her eyes with an arm, tired beyond any tiredness she had ever imagined, but still ready to help raise one more log, knowing that when it was up, she would feel swelling in her chest again, the glorious satisfaction only Karl had taught her to feel.
One day, standing thus, she called up to her husband, "Oh, this is a magnificent thing all right, but I think it is a magnificent birdcage!" Indeed, it did look like a birdcage. Even with Karl's deeply cleft notches the logs did not quite meet. By now Anna knew perfectly well that all log cabins were made this way, but Karl's infectious teasing had by this time rubbed off on her.
"And I know a little bird I will put inside and keep there and feed her good to try to fatten her up!"
"Like a hen for market?"
"Oh no! This hen is not for sale."
"Even so, if you want to fatten her up in this cage, you'll have trouble getting her in, since you forgot the door."
He laughed fully, raising his golden head till the sun caught it brightly against the blue sky. "Such a smart little hen she is that she noticed a thing like that. Such a foolish Swede I am that I forgot to build a door."
"Or windows either!"
"Or windows either," he acknowledged playfully. "You will just have to peek out between the logs."
"How can I peek out when I can't get in?"
"You will just have to get in over the top, I guess."
"That should be easy enough on a roofless house!"
"Does the little hen want to try it?"
"Try what?"
"Try out her birdcage?"
"You mean go inside?"
"Ya, I mean go inside."
"But how?"
"Come up here, my scrawny little chick, and I will show you how."
"Come up there?" It looked mighty high from where she stood.
"I have had to look at you in those awful britches all this time. This is the first time I see some advantage in you wearing them. You can climb the walls easily. Come on."
Anna was not one to waver before a challenge. Up she went! Hand over hand, toe over toe. "Be careful," he called down, "chickens cannot fly!" Twelve logs high she went, and Karl leaned to grab her arm and help her swing a leg over the top of the wall. Of course, she swung the leg out behind instead of before her, almost knocking poor Karl off his perch. But he skittered backward and Anna made it safely up. The world seemed magnificent from this height! She could see the straight rows of the vegetable garden and their corn crop. The wheat lay like a green waving sea below her. The backs of Bill and Belle were so wide! She'd never realized how wide! The roof of the sod hut had a squirrel's nest up against the chimney. The road out of the clearing was so straight and shaded.
From behind her Karl's voice came. "All this is ours, Anna. Have we not plenty?" He edged forward, put an arm around her waist and drew her back into his spraddled thighs, pulling her tightly till she was forced to lean her head sideways against his shoulder. He smelled of fresh wood and sweat and horses and leather and all things wonderful.
He rubbed her ribs, just beneath her breasts, while she reached behind her to put a hand on his neck. "Yes, Karl, I know now what you mean when you talk about having plenty. It has nothing to do with amounts, does it?"
For answer, he squeezed her ribs a little harder, then whispered, "Come, we will go down inside," and swung to do so.
Together they climbed down until they stood within the four new walls. The sun coming through the timbers fell upon the interior in bars of light and shadow that angled across their faces, shoulders, hair. It was like a cool, green cathedral with a blue sky ceiling. It was encompassing, private, pungent with the clean, crisp scent of wood. Automatically, they both looked up. Above the walls a fringe of branches swayed lightly in the summer breeze. Instantly, they both looked down. The wind sighed softly through the fretted walls, lazy birds chirped in the elms outside, the gurgle of the brook spoke quietly from the spring. And everywhere were those bands of sun and shadow, crossing Karl's shirtless chest, Anna's freckled face, their humble house where soon would be door, window, fireplace, loft and bed. His arms opened and his eyes closed as she pressed against him. Her arms entwined round his sun-striped body, which sprang to life at her touch against his limbs. Mouths joined, they turned in a slow circle, not thinking about what they did, but answering some need to move with each other, against each other, in harmony with each other.
"Oh, Anna, how happy we will be here," he said at last against her hair.
"Show me where our bed will be," she said. He led her to a corner where sticks and leaves and grass were its only furnishings.
"Here," he pointed, envisioning it. "And here I will cut the hole for the fireplace. And here will be the ladder to James' loft. And here I will put a dresser. Would you like a dresser in your kitchen, Anna? I can build it of maple. I have already chosen a good maple tree. And I thought of a chair that rocks. Always I have wanted a chair that rocks. With my adz I can hollow out a smooth seat and make spindles for the back of it of willow whips. What a chair that will be, Anna."
She could not help smiling at him, with him. She thought she would rather have an iron stove than a rocking chair or dresser put together, but did not say so. His enthusiasm was too fine to dampen.
"When can we start chinking?" Anna asked.
"Soon," he answered. "First I must bring in the ridge-pole from the woods. I have it chosen, too."
"When will it all be done, Karl? When can we move in?"
"You are anxious, my little one?"
"I am tired of lying to James about all these walks we've been taking lately."
He hugged her against his chest again, chuckling into her neck, placing his mouth there, tasting salt of her labors, loving it. He dropped his arm to her hips, drew them against his own. Then he placed both hands upon her buttocks and cupped them handily, though there was no need for him to pressure her against her will. Her will was now his own. She had come to love the feel of his body molded against hers, sought it out as eagerly as he did here.
"If my Tonka Squaw keeps it up, she will be lying to her brother again and he will know perfectly well this time that we are not going for a walk in broad daylight with a cabin only half built."
"Since he will know the truth anyway, perhaps this little Tonka Squaw will just go ahead and tell him the truth, that his big, hot-blooded brother-in-law is off to the cucumber patch again."