A Sketch of the Red River Valley

A harvest crew in the Dakota wheat fields, 1887

On the PRAIRIE A Sketch of the Red River Valley

KNUT HAMSUN

Translated by JOHN CHRISTIANSON

KNUT HAMSUN, the Norwegian novelist Hamsun worked for a time in a Madelia who was awarded the Nobel Prize in 1920, lumberyard and later went to Minneapolis is widely knoum as the author of Hunger, as secretary to the Norwegian poet and Uni Pan, and the monumental Growth of the tarian minister, Kristofer Janson. His second Soil, each of which has appeared in several trip in 1886 took him first to Chicago, where American editions. But it is not so well he was a streetcar conductor for a short time. known that he spent several years in the Then during the summer and autumn of United States, and particularly, in Minne 1887, Hamsun hired out as a laborer on a sota. During his first sojourn in the New huge bonanza farm in the Red River Valley. World, from 1882 until the autumn of 1885, Whether he was employed by Oliver Dal rymple cannot now be definitely estab MR. CHRISTIANSON is a native of Mankato and lished. When the season ended, he went a graduate student in history in the University of Minnesota. His previous publications include back to Janson and other friends in Minne an article on the sixteenth century Danish apolis, and remained toith them until his astronomer, Tycho Brahe, which appeared in return to Norway in 1888. His first book, Scientific American for February, 1961. published the folloiving year, was a bitter

September 1961 265 attack on the materialism of American The sun was brutal. We went about in society.^ nothing but a hat, shirt, trousers, and shoes; Some years later, in a more mellow mood, and it was impossible to wear less. If some Hamsun described life on the bonanza farm one tore a hole in his shirt, for example, the in a little autobiographical sketch entitled sun would burn a red sore on his hide under "Paa Praerien" ("On the Prairie"), which the hole. first appeared in 1903 as part of a collection We worked a sixteen-hour day during the called Kratskog ("Brushwood"). The sketch wheat harvest. Ten mowing machines drove has been used by Hamsun's biographers, after each other in the same field, day after and part of it lias been rendered into Swed day. When one field was finished, we went ish by John Landquist, but it has never to another and laid it down as well. And appeared in English translation.^ It gives a so onward, always onward, while ten men fine picture of the rugged hands of men who came behind us and shocked the bundles labored in the immense fields of Red River we left. And high on his horse, with a re wheat and recalls an interesting chapter in volver in his pocket and his eye on every Minnesota history. man, the foreman sat and watched us. He exhausted two horses every day. If some THE WHOLE SUMMER of 1887 I worked thing went wrong — if a machine broke on a section of Dalrymple's immense farm down for example — the foreman was there in the Red River Valley of the North. Be immediately to repair the damage or to order sides myself there were two other Norwe the machine sent back to the yard. He was gians, a Swede, ten or twelve Irishmen, and often far off when he noticed something was a few Yankees. We were twenty-odd men wrong, and because there were no roads he all told on our little section — but we were had to ride through the thick wheat all a mere fraction of the hundreds of laborers day, until his horse lathered with sweat. on the whole farm. In September and October it was still The prairie lay golden-green and endless cruelly hot during the day, but the nights as a sea. No buildings could be seen, with were frosty. We almost froze many nights, the exception of our own barns and sleep and because of the cold we never got ing shed in the midst of the fields. Not a enough sleep. We were called out at three tree, not a bush grew there — only wheat in the morning, when it was still dark as and grass, wheat and grass, as far as the pitch. We fed the horses and ourselves and eye could see. Nor were there any flowers, drove the long distance out to the fields, although now and then one might come and then day would finally break and we across the yellow tassels of wild mustard. could see what we were about to begin. Cultivation of this plant was forbidden by Then we would set fire to a pile of straw, law, so we destroyed the prairie's only blos warm the cans of lubricating oil, and warm som; pulled it up roots and all, carted it ourselves a bit at the same time. But it was home, let it dry, and burned it. not many minutes before we would have No birds flew overhead; there was no to clamber upon the machines and set to movement except the swaying of the wheat work. in the wind; no sound but the eternal chir ^ Knut Hamsun, Fra det moderne Amerikas rup of a million grasshoppers, singing the aandsliv (Copenhagen, 1889). For a full account prairie's only song. of Hamsun's Minnesota experiences see John T. We would almost collapse from the heat. Flanagan, "Knut Hamsun's Early Years in the Northwest," in Minnesota History, 20:397-412 When the chuck wagon came out to us at (December, 1939). noon, we would lie on our belhes under ^ John Landquist, Knut Hamsun hans levnad the wagon or the horses, in order to have och verk, 27-29 (Stockhohn, 1931). Landquist in cludes the incident concerning Hamsun and the a bit of shade while we gobbled our food. Swede.

266 ^HNNESOTA Histonj WORKERS on a bonanza farm in Norman County, probably in the 1880s There were no holidays. Sunday was the of it, but I finally asked the foreman to same as Monday. We could accomplish put me somewhere else, and he did. He gave nothing when it rained, however, so on me an excellent job out in the field pitching rainy days we would pass the time playing bundles. He did not forget that I had done casino, chatting, or sleeping. him a favor early in the year. An Irishman there was, an amazing fel It happened like this. My jacket was a low. God only knows what he once had uniform jacket with shining buttons, which been. On rainy days he always sat on his I had worn while I was a streetcar con bunk and read the novels he kept in his ductor in Chicago. The foreman was im locker. He was a big, handsome fellow about pressed with the jacket and with its mag thirty-five years old, and he spoke an ex nificent buttons. He was a regular child quisite tongue, not only in English, but about such finery, and there certainly was German as well. not much finery of any sort out there on This man came to the farm in a silk shirt, the prairie. So one day I said that he could and he continued to wear silk shirts all the have the jacket. He wanted to pay me and time he was there, even while he worked. asked me to name my price. When I in When one was worn out he put on another, sisted upon giving it to him, he thanked me a new one. He was not a good worker — profusely. At the end of the harvest, when he did not have the "knack" — but he was he saw that I had no jacket to wear on my a remarkable person. travels, he gave me a good coat in place of Evans was his name.* the one I had given him. The two Norwegians were not much I remember an episode from the days out good. One of them quit because he could in the field pitching bundles. The Swede not stand the work; the other held out. came after a load one morning. He wore During threshing we all tried to get a his trousers tucked into high boots. We job as far away from the machine as pos began to load the wagon. He was a regular sible, because dust, chaff, and straw puffed demon for work, and I had my hands full out a regular storm from the scoops and trying to keep up with him. I pitched the openings. For a few days I was in the midst bundles up to him, but he stacked them faster and faster, and at last it got on my nerves so that I began to explode angrily 'Hamsun apparently could not keep his Gaels straight; Evans, of course, is Welsh. into the work myself. Each shock consisted

September 1961 267 of eight bundles, and we usually pitched We were exceedingly friendly towards one bundle at a time. Now I took four. I one another during those days. Perhaps we flooded the Swede with bundles, .smothered had gotten along only moderately well all him in bundles. summer, but now that we were parting, Then apparently a snake was in one of everything bad was forgotten. Our hearts the heavy loads I sent up to the Swede. It grew greater with every drink, and we slipped into one of his boots. I did not nearly succumbed with emotion as we realize what had happened until I suddenly threw ourselves into one another's arms. heard a scream of terror and saw the Swede The cook, a beardless, hunchbacked old throw himself down from the load with dwarf with a woman's voice, confided in the thrashing snake sticking from the top hiccuping Norwegian that he was Norse of his boot. But it did not bite, and the fall the same as I was, and that he had not to earth knocked it out of the boot. The identified himseff sooner because of the snake disappeared into the wheat in a flash. Yankees' general contempt for Norwegians. We both poked for it with our pitchforks, He had often heard the other Norwegian but we could not find it. and me talk about him during meals, and We agreed then that the Swede should he had understood every word. But now work at a more reasonable pace and that I everything was forgiven and forgotten, for should send him only one bundle at a time. we were lads of the same stamp. Oh yes, he was "born of old Norway's sturdy sons, WE PLOWED and sowed, mowed and har was fbdt in Iowa den 22de Juli 1845." And vested the wheat; then the job was finished therefore we should be good friends and and we received the season's wages. With partners as long as the Norse tongue flowed gay hearts and full pockets we wandered from our lips. The cook and I embraced twenty strong to the nearest prairie town one another; our friendship would never to find an eastbound train. The foreman die. AU the laborers embraced one another; came along to have a parting drink with we squeezed each other flat with our sturdy us. He wore the jacket with the bright arms and danced around and around with buttons. gusto. A person who has never taken part in the We offered one another drinks. We went celebration of a crew of prairie laborers behind the bar and helped ourselves to the can hardly imagine how wild such men can best bottles. We took down the unusual be. Of course everyone immediately buys bottles from the top sheff, bottles with mag a round — that makes twenty drinks for nificent pictures which passed for real ele each man. But you are wrong if you think it gance out there. We served our good friends stops with that, for certainly there are some the contents, drank and paid laughingly, gentlemen who consider it proper to order with big money. five rounds at a time. And Lord help the Evans was probably the worst when it bartender who tries to object to such ab came to buying a round. His last silk shirt surdities, for he is instantly hauled from looked sad now, the sun and rain had taken behind his own bar. Such a mob knocks its gay colors and the sleeves were tattered. down everything that stands in its way. But Evans himself stood huge and proud After the first four or five drinks, the mob and bought drinks for the whole crew. He becomes a law unto itself, and it rules with acted as if he owned the place — as if he out opposition. The local policeman is owned the world. The rest of us paid an powerless; he joins the crowd that drinks even three dollars per round, but this was with the laborers. There is drinking and not generous enough for Evans, and he gambling, fighting and shouting, for sev insisted on buying six-dollar rounds. For eral days. there was nothing in the whole wretched

268 MINNESOTA History place that was too good for such gentlemen the name of O'Brien, hinted that Evans as we were, said Evans. It was in order to would need his money for a train ticket. At find liquor expensive enough for a six-dollar that Evans stopped. round that we had to have recourse to the "No, you'll have to lend me ticket money," remarkable bottles on the top shelf. he said. In his elated mood Evans took me aside O'Brien sullenly refused, and left the and tried to persuade me to foUow him to room. the forests of Wisconsin, to spend the win Now Evans was stirred up. He put all his ter chopping cordwood. After he had out money in the pot at once, and lost every fitted himself with some new shirts, a pair cent. He took the loss quietly. He lit a cigar of pants, and some novels to read, then he and said to me, with a smile, "Will you lend would head for the forests again, he said, me the ticket money?" and stay there until spring. And when spring I had finally become a bit unsteady due came, then he would find a job out on the to the last tricks of a sweet wdne from the prairie once more. That was his life. For top shelf. I unbuttoned my jacket and twelve years he had divided his seasons handed Evans my wallet with everything I between the prairie and the forest, and he owned in it. I did this to show him how had grown so accustomed to it that it willing I was to lend him money for his seemed a natural way of life. ticket, and left him to take what he needed. But when I asked him what had hap Evans looked at me and at the wallet. A pened to set him upon such a track in the strange expression came to his face; he first place, he did not answer, as people in opened the wallet and saw that it contained their cups often do, with a long, sad tale of all my money. When he looked up at me, I how it all came about. He replied with the simply nodded. single word: "Circumstances." He misunderstood that nod. He thought "What kind?" I asked. that I was giving him all the money in the "Circumstances," he repeated, and would wallet. not come out with more. "I thank you," he said. Later in the evening I saw him in a little And to my great alarm, he began to re nook off to one side of the tavern; he was new the play with my money. shooting dice. Evans had lost. He was pretty At first I wanted to stop him, but I caught drunk and did not worry about money. myself. Let him use his ticket money as he When I came in he showed me a few bills will, thought I. But when a reasonable sum and said, "I still have money left. See here." is gambled away, I will take back the rest. Some of the players advised him to get But Evans did not lose any more. It was out of the game. One of his countrymen, by as if he had suddenly become sober again. and he played surely and rapidly. The con out in the country digging a hole for our fidence I had shown in him before so many comrade." people seemed to transform him. He sat We buried O'Brien a short distance from tall and sflent on the whiskey case which the town in a box we found behind a store. served him as a stool, playing and taking Because the body had been cut so short, home the profits. If he lost one time, he our box was quite long enough. We neither doubled the ante next time. He lost three sang nor said any prayer, but we did stand times in a row, doubled every time, and together a moment with hats in hand. finally swept in the whole pot. Then he bet And then the ceremony was over. half his earnings and said that if he won But when Evans went to collect his he would quit. money, it appeared that the clever banker He lost. had vanished. Evans took it with his usual The game went on. calmness, as though it were a matter of After an hour, he handed back my wallet complete indifference to him. After all, he with the same amount I had given him. had money enough to buy a ticket and get Even after repaying all he had borrowed some shirts, some pants, and some novels from me, Evans still had a pile of money. as well. And then he would be ready for He continued to play. Then all at once he the winter. bet everything he had. A murmur ran We stayed around until the next day, around the circle of onlookers. celebrating until we finally drank the town Evans said, "Winner take all; I'm quitting dry. Many of the laborers were flat broke after this throw." by the time they left the little town, and He won. those who could not afford a train ticket Evans rose. "Will you be so kind as to pay sneaked into the wheat cars and buried me?" he said. themselves in the grain. But the hunch "Tomorrow," replied the banker. "I don't backed old cook, the Norwegian from Iowa, have it tonight. I'll dig it up tomorrow." had bad luck. He was fortunate enough to "All right then, tomorrow," Evans said. get into a wheat car unseen, but once there Just as we were about to leave, some men he could not keep still and began to sing tramped heavily into the tavern. They car bawdy songs in his drunken woman's voice. ried a mutilated body. It was the Irishman, As a result he was discovered and thrown O'Brien, the same one who had refused to off. And when they went through his things, lend money to Evans. He had just been run they found so much money that the scoun over by a train and both his legs were drel could easily have bought tickets for sheared off, one of them right across the the whole crew. thigh. He was already dead. He had gone We scattered with the winds. The other from the tavern into the dark and had Norwegian finally settled in a town in stumbled under the wheels of the train. Minnesota, and the cook went out to the They laid his body out on the floor and West Coast. But Evans undoubtedly still covered it. goes around clad in silk shirts, handling his money with a free hand. Each summer he WE FOUND places to sleep as best we is on the prairie harvesting wheat, and each could. Some lay down on the floor right winter he stays in the forests of Wisconsin, there in the tavern. The other Norwegian chopping cordwood. That is his life now. and I found a barn and slept in the hay. Probably as good a lffe as some others. In the morning Evans came down the street. "Have you gotten your money?" the THE DRAWINGS on pages 265 and 269 are from other Norwegian asked. Harper's Weekly for July 30, 1887, and Decem ber 13, 1890. The photograph on page 267 is owned "Not yet," answered Evans. "I've been by the Minnesota Historical Society.

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