Chapter 1630 – 1630

This is a continuation of the letters, journals and documents I am still reading through, and having to translate in some places. The search is still ongoing and there is more to come.

From the Journal of Jaralath Caulfield: July 25th, 1630

To anyone snooping around in this book, keep your nose in your own damned business. I am to understand this book of mine is to share my private thoughts, so the books defeats it’s own purpose, especially if no one will read the bloody thing.

But as long as I’m keeping my secrets from the world, I will say this, I am plenty pleased with our latest newcomer.

And the reason why is for five years, I have had tried to convince these people that these monsters in the woods, and failed. I try to get answers from the former people of the tribes, but they refuse to answer my questions. No doubt, because they are now full believers in what Minister Chase has been preaching. I take the matter up with the good Minister, but without fail, he gives me the answer.

“Do you not know ? This land is touched by the Holy Spirit. Whatever evil haunts this land, never will here.” All the while he tries his damndest to convert me to his way of believing. I was never a Catholic, I was never a Protestant, and I don’t think I will ever be so. I kept to my parents beliefs, as I have seen as much proof for what they and the tribe people, as what Chase been preaching.

To date, the only two who believe me is Mrs. Chase, angel that she is, and Greeshawn. But Mrs. Chase won’t talk to be about what she knows. I could understand in her case, because whatever happened to her must have scared her worse than I, so I decided not to press the issue with her.

Greeshawn on the other hand, when I grew older and braver and he grew softer, I decided to confront the boy over what he’s been doing in the night. Seeing him praying out in the fields, just on the forest line, every night as the wind blows. So over the past few years, he’s become quieter and more pious like his da. So, one day after the church service ended, I cornered him when he was alone at the chapel.

I finally asked him what the bloody hell he’s been doing in those woods. He gave me this usual church answer “My god of course. Have you not learned of the spirit who touches this land, who offers to feed us. The god of this world, who with the wind, goes to and fro on the earth, walking up and down from it. The very god who shown to me at my birth. Do you not see him too ? Do you not hear him ?”

I have seen this brutish young man turn into a god fearing choir boy over the years, that I became less afraid of him and decided to press the matter further.

“You and that Erik boy, you have been on more hunting trips than anyone else here, and you mean to tell me you have never seen the very monsters your ma said exists before your god ? I laid my very eyes on them for three years.”

“Can’t say that I have, sorry to disappoint, but I know they are there. They watch us, they hunger, they live amongst eachother, in their own tribes and colonies. And I believe they fight among eachother as men do, and I believe they are afraid as men are.” He starts “But they are creatures of god. My father told me he wanted to draw all men to this colony. To establish the kingdom of god on this new world. Perhaps we are to draw them to us. For they too fear god.” He explains in a manner as if he was talking to a child.

This Greeshawn boy has been talking more and more like this since he, as he put it, immersed himself in the spirit. He’d take trips outside the colony, taking some gold with him, saying that he was ministering to the tribes and other colonies. Being a missionary, doing his da proud. I do not envy those who had to sit throughout whatever cryptic sermon that comes from this boy. I prefer to hear from a minister who actually knows what he’ talking about, and I’m not even sure I believe their stories.

He would disappear for weeks and come back with no new followers, but he told his da that he spread the word of god, and that was good for his da.

For years I lived in the Muller house, and worked as a butcher, so who are going to believe the lowely servant boy when when he tells people about monsters living in the woods that only he seen by the looks of things. Also, being a butcher makes me wish I was back to being a hunter. There’s no sport in killing an animal that you raise for food. They grow up in captivity, providing no challange or chase like their free counterparts. They just line themselves up to me as if I was a bloody executioner.

So to anyone nosey enough to be reading through my private thoughts, ever look into the eyes of a calf when you take it’s mother to be cut up, cooked and eaten ? Or staring into a lambs eyes as becasue you want to eat chops ? There’s a reason why I released my hunts from traps, and sometimes would let them run free. Some need to grow and have a fighting chance, and if I am to outwit my food, I think I need to earn it.

I guess it provided food for the colony, and eventually I was able to work my way into my own home. So there’s something to get from this. It’s not the Muller’s are bad people, but over time Oskar became more and more of a miserable drunk, and hasn’t done much to contribute to his farm. And I didn’t like how he started becoming hateful towards the tribes people. And Erik is too friendly with Greeshawn. I don’t judge by the company one keeps, but I didn’t bother really bonding with Erik. I wasn’t looking for brotherhood, nor friendship, until recently. Four days ago, I think I finally found someone who could understand me. Even if she didn’t understand us.

A woman from the tribes wandered out of the woods, disoriented, tired and hungry. The minister did with her as he did with me and other weary travelers. She was bathed, fed, but she refused to part with her dress. It was a typical deerskin dress I have seen tribes women wore. At least those who didn’t or wouldn’t convert to the Minister’s way of life, or live under him. Her’s was covered from her shoulders to waist in feathers of black and blue birds. She had a few such feathers in her hair braids, and her eyes had grey painted over them. Needless to say, it was quite a sight to see standing before the church people expecting her to introduce herself.

At first the colony didn’t know what tribe she came from, and when they talked to her, she spoke in a language unknown to the tribes people. But the minister didn’t relent, but he was patient and calm. He gave her these papers, and offered her a pen. It was what he would do when he brought a deaf or mute before his church, having them write, or draw to explain themselves. I guess she understood what he wanted her to do, so she started drawing and showing her pictures to the church goers.

What they did confused the people of the church, but I knew just what she was drawing; the forest people, the giants, the monsters my parents told me about and that I have seen with my own eyes. She was starting to draw a tree when Greeshawn stopped her and took the papers.

I walked up to her and I tried to reassure her with the calmest smile I could muster, but she looked at me with this cautious confusion. Unlike Greeshaw, I was calm as I reached gently for her papers.

I could understand her nervousness, I was nervous too when I was introduced to the colony on this very alter. I was alone then, and in my own silent way I tried to show her that she wasn’t alone like I was.

I think she understood because she slowly handed me the papers; and with each one I looked at the drawings matched the monsters I have seen in this forest. The tree she tried to draw I wasn’t familiar with, but I paid it no heed.

The pictures had the forest people, the ones with stones, the red giants, and even the wolf creatures. The forest people were drawn surrounding a little girl.

I turn towards the minister and his flock and ask “She has seen, what I have seen. She has seen the monsters in the woods. Do you think she’s a liar like me ?”

The testimony and confession of Erik Müller: September 16th, 1630

It has been weeks now and we still haven’t made progress with Mahalia – the name we found out belonged be of the heathen who made her way into our colony. Despite her appearance, we couldn’t identify her with any of the tribes taken in with the colony.

We had her interact with the former tribesmen who have since converted when they joined us. It occured to us, that we had them speaking English for so long, they all but forgot their own former languages. But they managed.

They spoke to her in Cree, Navejo, and Algonquin. She understood the languages, but still maintained her own language none of us new for so long. My father suggested when he had too much of a drink, that we remove her tongue. He gets that way when he drinks too much and spends to long among the “heathens” as he calls them.

He had little patience towards those the Minister couldn’t convert, writing them off as lost. Ever since alements took my mother, he’s been taking his grief out on the bottle and on the red skins.

Which is all the more ironic that the Minister chose us to house her. He didn’t want her potentially leading his flock back to her heathen ways. My father didn’t take this well, and made a general effort to avoid interacting with her, made it no secret he looked down on her, while speaking in our mother tongue, and even suggested I give her very little food.

When we finally got her to communicate, her words and sentences alternate between Cree and Navejo. So it took some time for us to figure out what she was trying to say.

She tells this story of how she was from a tribe, and when she was a small child, her family was separated by a storm, and picked off and devoured by a creature called genoskwa. She was alone for some time before she was taken in by another tribe, she mistaken for the genoskwa. She called them the forest people, and they never harmed her, but guided, protected and raised as if she was one of their own. They were nomadic, and traveled these forests for years.

When she first came here, she said the woods are filled with monsters, very similar the type that Jaralath described when he first shown up. This was something that interested the boy, as he followed her where she went, and shown her pictures he drew in his journal as well. It was the most I’ve seen Jaralath this eager for social interaction, or even happy, besides the times he went out to feed his feral dog. As of late, they’ve been trying to talk to the Minister into starting an expedition to seek these creatures out.

It was because of this bond, Mahalia shown an interest in the European languages. She is a little broken in her speech, but she is currently learning English, Gaelic and German.

I found this out when she walked past my father while he was in a drunken stupor. My father spoke to her in his mother tongue “Why are you here ? You don’t want to learn are ways, and you terrorize us with tales of monsters. Do you really think you are wanted here ?”

She then replied, in our mother tongue “Where is your wife ? Did you speak to her like this as well ? Is that why she’s not around ?” At the time, I didn’t want to correct her, but she didn’t know the truth of the matter. Plus, my father was being needlessly hateful. Do unto others, the Minister preached.

My father puffed “You bloody savage.” before he went back into his stupor.

Day after day, my father would complain to the Minister, that girl was a savage, that she would sexually tempt me, that she would convert me away from Christianity. The Minister would listen to him, and ask of my father what she done in the ways of savagry. What was did she tempt us ?

“Has she physically attacked or threaten you ? We are trying to civilize her.”

“There’s no way she can be civilized.” My father argues.

“Do you not have faith in me ? Do you not have faith in your lord ?” The Minister would ask.

My father had no answer. Truth be told, she barely lets her presence be known in our house. The most nose she would make was when she would cover her ears as the wind howls.

“In what way does she sexually tempt you ? Do you have lust for the girl ? She’s young enough to be your daughter.” The Minister asks.

“Of course not!” My father would shout “But my son, he’s but a young man.”

“I will talk to him. But it stronger for his spirit not just to avoid any temptation, but to overcome it.” And that is why I spent a morning talking to the Minister about any feelings I may have had for Mahalia. I had to spend the whole morning that I was not, in any way, interested in the girl. She was pretty as a picture, despite her dress and paint, but she was small, distant.

But this is where I make my confession.

I have given into the temptations of the flesh, but not for Mahalia. Her name is Anya Pavel.

Like I, she took up the responsibilities of farming when her family was sick. And I must confess it was the strength and will she shown, and pride she had in her work that drew me to her, more so than physical beauty.

It started when Greeshawn was on his missionary expeditions and wasn’t around to hunt as much as he used to. I helped Anya around the farm, took her fishing on some days. Sometimes, I’d just visit her when my father was letting his woes get the best of him.

She also visited my home, and made an effort to teach Mahalia english. It was from Anya that Mahalia thought my fathers name was “Drunkard” and that the name “Oskar” was German for drunkard.

One night, Anya and I were tending to her fields, when the storm came. Thunder, lightning and great gusts of wind, and we took refuge in the cellar in her farm, not her house, since the farm was closest.

There we tried to sleep through the storm, but couldn’t catch a wink. But we started talking, about everything and nothing, but with just us in there, I don’t think we had anything new to talk about. So she kissed me, took my hand and started to guide my hand and asked me.”If we are to die tonight, if this storm are to take our lives, this could be the only chance we have.”

God in Heaven forgive me, for I given into the flesh. We took eachother, right then and there. When the storm stopped. We left the cellar, disposed of any corn or grain we debased, and joined the others in fixing up the place.

I thought what happened was between me, Anya and God. That is when Greeshawn returned from his missionary work. He brought with him seventy two men. He told his father that they were sinners of different colonies and tribes he encountered in his travels. Minister Chase asked what their sins where.

“It matters not.” Greeshawn says “I have absolved them, and now they are here to serve the spirit. They are here to live, work, and find redemption by contributing to the army and kingdom of God. I have given them their place in the gold mines, until there comes a time when we travel together to spread the word.”

No one questioned how Greeshawn found these sinners and picked them specifically, or why they must work in the gold mines of all things.

As stated, Greeshawn and I would hunt as we have when he returns from doing his holy work. I didn’t think this was any different. I thought it would be the usual – we’d go in, take a dozen of rabbits, two or thee deer. Hopefully we wouldn’t repeat the bear incident.

We made camp a good twenty miles from the colony, the furthest we ever traveled together. One the first day, we had no luck, which is an expected loss, but we didn’t talk, or at least, he wouldn’t answer me when I tried to start a conversation.

The second night was a success. As usual, I wasn’t a good shot, and managed to wound an elk. As usual, the animal would try walk in the vain effort to survive as Greeshawn would quickly walk up to the panicking animal, grab it by the neck and either break it, or choke it.

We killed a second elk that day and dragged them both to the camp. The sun has set by the time we reached the camp. We would be tending to the carcasses tomorrow. But I awoke in the middle of the night to see something I wished I would never seen again, something I haven’t seen since the bear cub incident.

Greeshawn was leaning over an elk carcass, and feeding from it. It’s stomach ripped open, it’s head torn off. He didn’t use the fire, or even the knife to carve or cook the flesh. He ate like an animal.

He stopped when he heard me gasp and turned me around, with a gleam in his eye and licked his teeth, before turning back to his meal.

“You are a sinner, Erik Müller. You rot of it, and pollute the land you walk on with it.” He barely paid me any mind as he continued digging and eating the animal in front of him.

I could barely form the words, and tried to question what he was talking about.

“You spilled your seed into the flower of a virgin. You sullied pure flesh.” He tries to wipe the blood from his mouth. He turns to me and crawls onto me “For me, and for you, are you ready for your penance ?” He sniffs at me. “I offer the Kingdom of God. I offer the new world. And I offer salvation for all those who bow their knees and confess.”

“I only did what I did because I love her.” I say.

“Love her ? Then marry her.” He licks his teeth and stands up “I was born filled with the spirit Erik, you’ve always known that. The very spirit that touched our land. I see it, I hear it, pray to it. The spirit guides me, teaches me, and shows me the way. I offer the way to you, but you must go and do my will.”

He was interrupted by the sound of trees breaking, and something moving around us. A series of long drones could be heard as the wind started to blow. I see what had to be several sets of eyes glowing in the darkness, just out of reach of our camp site.

“Do you feel that ? Do you see that ? The beasts of the land watch you, in hunger. They smell your sin, the same as I.” He then put his hand upon my head. “They sit in judgement, they fear our God, the same as I. I hope you have the same fear.”

He grabs me by the neck and lifts me up. I could scarcely tell the difference between the howls of the beasts, and the howls of the wind. “I can spare you the judgement, I can take your weakness and turn it to strength! But only if you serve the will of the spirit! Will you confess your sin ?”

“Yes. I will marry her!” I finally cry out.

“And you will baptize your child in the name of our God ?”

“Yes! Yes! I will!” I cry again.

And like that, the wind stops, as do the noises. I cannot say for sure if the beasts where still there. “Then kneel.” He releases me, and I land directly on my knees, and I roll over onto my side. He crouches down beside me and asks “Did you know my father is planning something ? The heathen girl is going to lead an expedition of her own, much further than our hunting trips ever traveled. They hope to uncover the very beasts that lurk on our doorstep and my father intends to bare witness. You are going to join them, and you are going to make sure they all return alive.”

And so I write, in fear of God, that Greeshawn is filled with the spirit, for he has shown me he can smell my sins and called his wrath onto me. And, he has called me into repentance. I am to marry Anya, at his request. And I am to join his fathers caravan, to ensure his safety.

Note: There was an extra letter from that year, detailing the above mentioned expedition, but there is apparently a limit of words that can fit in one post.