Rally Cry (22 page)

"I'm proud as well that you're Mainers, the best from the finest state in all New England," and with that an appreciative growl went up from the ranks, peppered with witticisms about their neighboring states to the south.

"This mill will be the foundation from which other projects will spring that will be the envy of this world."

He looked about and suddenly realized that he had unwittingly slighted the men working on other projects.

"Not to mention the sawyers, miners, and heaven knows what other projects you boys are cooking up," he said hurriedly, and the crowd laughed appreciatively.

"All right, then, enough of the speechifying and let's see what we've got here."

With a ceremonial flourish, John stepped forward and handed Andrew an iron pole and pointed at the clay plug at the base of the kiln. Feeling somewhat clumsy with his one hand, Andrew grasped the pole and thrust it at the plug. After several attempts the clay broke, and as if by magic a hot river of metal poured out into the rough troughs
laid
out in a bed of sand at the foot of the furnace.

A loud cheer went up as hundreds of pounds of molten metal flowed out, shimmering and sparkling, the heat so intense that Andrew held his hand up to protect his face from the glare.

Beaming with pride, John could not contain his excitement and jumped up and down, until the runoff finally trickled to a stop.

"All right, load her up again!" John shouted. "Let's have a ton of this beautiful stuff by tomorrow!"

John looked about and finally spotted the man he wanted.

"
Ferguson, come over here."

From out of the crowd, a slight form appeared, smiling nervously. His glasses made his pale-blue eyes appear owl-like, giving the man an almost ridiculous appearance. Andrew had always liked the man, even though more often than not he was in the infirmary, the hard rigors of campaigning simply too much for his body. Several times he had expected to see Jim's name stricken from the roll, but a week later he'd come dragging back, ever eager to try again. He had offered Jim an easier job behind the lines with the quartermaster, but the private had always refused.

Here, however, he had come into his own, his student days studying engineering before the war now making him one of the more valuable men in the regiment.

"Shall we take a look, private?" John asked.

His head bobbing up and down, Jim pointed to a rough cabin next to the mill and led the way, the two officers following.

Stepping into the darkness, Jim lit a couple of pine sticks that were so heavy in resin they burned as brightly as candles. Pointing over to a table,
Ferguson rolled out a sheet of paper, which had become available only the week before from the small paper-making operation located back at the fort.

Andrew leaned over the diagrams and could not help but shake his head.

"Are you serious, Jim?" Andrew asked quietly.

"Of course I am, sir. I'm always serious about such things."

"But a railroad?
Why would we even need one?" Andrew asked.

"Why not?"
Mina replied enthusiastically. "
Ferguson here's got it all figured out. It'll be a narrow-gauge line of two and a half feet, saving a lot of effort on grading and tracks. The line would start at
Fort
Lincoln
and come up the
Mill Stream Road
, then continue on up past here and then to where the ore supply is. Since it would be a light gauge we could use wooden tracks covered with iron straps to get started. I figure we'll only need twenty tons of iron a mile that way.

"The line could haul lime flux, bricks, anything we wanted.
from
the river on up. At the top it could haul charcoal and ore down to the mill, and then run lumber and finished iron back to the river again."

"It'll take a lot of work," Andrew said quietly.

"I've got that figured already," John replied quickly.
"Actually, not that many of our boys would be tied up.
I was talking to Kal only yesterday about it—he claims he's got some relatives that'd make excellent gang bosses. Now that the harvest is coming in there'd be several landholders who'd loan out their peasants as laborers. We could pay for them with the regiment's half of the lumber and some of the
Franklin stoves I'm planning to turn out from the foundry."

"Kal, get in here!" Andrew roared.

As if waiting to be called, the peasant showed up in the doorway.

"What is this about you being a gang boss?"

"Colonel, sir," Kal said smiling disarmingly, "it'll be simple enough. I'll subcontract the work out to several of my cousins."

"Subcontract?
Just where the hell did you hear that phrase?"

Kal looked around innocently.

"You asked me to learn my English well."

"All right.
And I take it you're learning a little capitalism on the side?"

"Well, I am collecting a small payment from the men I'll recruit to help with the grading and cutting of lumber for ties."

"You mean a kickback, don't you?" Andrew asked, struggling to keep control and not burst out laughing.

"I prefer to call it a consideration."

Shaking his head, Andrew looked back at
Ferguson.

"What about power? You'll use horses, I take it?"

Ferguson
broke into a grin.

"Steam power, sir—a regular locomotive," and as he spoke he rolled out a set of plans for the engine.

"How in heaven's name do you plan to pull that one off?"

"Sir, we have two engineers in the regiment, Kevin Malady and Kurt Bowen, both of I Company, and a couple of firemen as well. I've already been over the
Ogunquifs
engine from one end to the other, and I must confess to having learned a little something about such things before I joined the army.

"We'll need to expand the foundry, putting in a couple of tilt hammers, an engine lathe and a reheat furnace for steel. I figured it out, and inside of a month they could be operating. In three months the track will be laid, the engine turned out, along with a couple of flat cars and hoppers, and the MFL S Railroad will be ready to run."

"MFL S?" Andrew asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

"
Maine
,
Fort
Lincoln
, and Suzdal Railroad."

"Suzdal?"

"Why, of course, sir—that's the next step, to run a line up the river road straight into downtown Suzdal."

"One thing at a time,
Ferguson, one thing at a time."

"Then you approve?" Mina asked excitedly.

"All right, I approve. But no more than sixty men from the regiment working on this—the rest of the labor comes through Kal. The first priority on labor for now goes to the making of more tools.
Then comes expanding Dunlevy's smithy shop with your trip-hammers, then the expansion of the foundry here.

"Can you manage that, Mina?"

"Of course, sir."

"All right, then. John, I'm appointing you coordinator of labor for the various operations involving ironworking and the railroad, but you're not to pull men away from Fletcher and Houston, or they'll be raising hell. Is that settled?"

"Of course, sir, and thank you, sir."

"It's a beautiful day, gentlemen, and for right now I plan to take a ride and enjoy it. Good day to you."

Walking out the door, he turned quickly and looked back. Mina,
Ferguson, and Kal were all exuberantly slapping each other on the back. Shaking his head, Andrew started back down the trail. They'd most likely been planning this one for weeks, thinking that they'd have a tough sell job.

Frankly, he loved railroads and was already eager for the first ride on the MFL S.

"You know, you Yankees are really quite amazing," Kal said good-naturedly, looking across the table at
Hawthorne, while pouring him another mug of tea.

Vincent had become something of a regular feature in their cabin. He had stayed with them for two weeks while his leg had healed. But since then his visits were a daily occurrence, and it was obvious that his major reason for dropping in was Tanya, who waited eagerly each evening for his arrival. After an hour or two of conversation with the family the young couple would leave for a walk, returning each night just as taps sounded.

The courtship, however, was more than just keeping company with a young lady. Vincent had become part of their family as well, sitting with Kal and pitching in with the chores.

Together they had managed to coax a load of broken and rejected bricks from the foundry, and now Kalencka was perhaps the only peasant in all of Suzdal with a real chimney to his home. Not to mention being the first peasant with an actual clock ticking in the corner, and a Bible, which
Hawthorne was using to teach Kal how to
read.

That alone had been a source of mystery for the peasant, though he did not say anything about it. For the stories of Kesus, Moos, and Abram were hauntingly similar to what the priest spoke of from the pulpit on seventh days.

"Why are we Yankees so amazing to you?"
Hawthorne asked, smiling and looking over at Kal. He stretched back in the chair, and a slight grimace crossed his features.

"Is it your leg?" Tanya asked nervously, rushing over to Vincent's side.

"No, nothing, just a little twinge, that's all."

Kal smiled at the two. The girl had hovered over him day and night, while the burning fever from the wounds racked his body. Even the healer Weiss had appeared nervous for a while, staying long hours at the cabin. The nurse woman Kathleen had visited every day, instructing Tanya carefully in the proper care of a young wounded soldier. But even after the fever had broken, the boy did not seem to recover. At night he would cry aloud, tearing at his sweat-soaked blanket.

Kal would arise, but already Tanya would be by his side, talking soothingly, wiping his brow, till the boy lay back down and drifted off, until another night terror tore into his soul again.

Gradually he recovered, but still there was a sad haunted look to his eyes which had yet to go away.

Since Tanya was his only daughter, Kal worried somewhat more than usual about his little girl who seemingly overnight had become a woman. He had no position, no dowry money, and feared that her life would end in drudgery, killing that vivacious charm that seemed to radiate from her soul. He feared the other thing as well, and since Ivor had not offered exemption to his family, Kal lived in dread of the selections for the moon feast.

He pushed the thought aside and watched the two as they gazed at each other and spoke softly. Already he felt a love for this young man, as if
Perm had sent him as a replacement for the boy lost long ago. There was a strength to him, and yet a gentleness as well, so unusual and yet so wished for in someone whom he hoped he might someday call his son.

The cabin was warm and comfortable. A hearty fire crackled in the fireplace, filling the room with a warm cheery glow, and the silence in the room was a gentle blanket of happiness. Loaves of freshly baked bread were on the table, and Ludmilla stood smiling in the corner of the room, watching the couple. Kal looked over at her, and the two nodded with the stirring of old memories that still held after twenty-five years.

The silence lasted only for the briefest of moments before the young couple looked up, and blushing drew apart. Kal chuckled and wagged his finger at the two.

There was a knock on the door, and Ludmilla hurried over to open it.

A wizened old man, with a white beard that tumbled down to his waist, stood in the doorway, leaning on a polished staff of wood. Behind him stood a dozen other men, all dressed alike in simple woolen shirts of white tied off at the waist, their legs protected against the autumn chill by cross-hatched wrappings of cloth.

"Peace and blessings upon this house," the old man said, bowing low.

"And blessing upon you, Nahatkim, and kinsmen, and friends," Kal said, walking over to the door and bowing in return.

As each came into the room, Ludmilla offered him a piece of bread, served on an ornately painted board where a bowl of salt was also set. Each took a sliver of bread, dipped it into the salt, and turning, faced the simply fashioned icon of Kesus that adorned the east wall of the room.

First making the sign of the cross, each man then ate the bread, bowed low to the icon, and then came over to sit by the table.

There was a moment of nervous silence as the men settled in while Tanya and Ludmilla scurried about, pouring tea and laying out platters of bread, pickled greens, and salted meat.

Kal looked over at
Hawthorne and smiled. A bit of a trap had been set. Vincent had had no idea that company
was coming
, nor did he know why these men were invited.