Free Racing Home by Adele Dueck Page B

a friendly smile. “I’m glad Rolf brought you along when he came here.”
    Erik wondered if Rolf felt the same way.
    The Green Valley townsite was just east of the valley with the big trees. The last time Erik had gone past, it was still a wheat field, but now the grain was gone and the lots were surveyed and staked.
    Erik was amazed at all the tents he saw. Parked beside them were every kind of wagon and buggy and even some automobiles, the first Erik had seen since coming to Canada. The auctioneer stood in a buggy where he could be seen by everyone, giving information about the sale. There were a few boys in the crowd, but Erik couldn’t see any women. In the excitement, no one seemed to care about the rain or the mud.
    Erik scanned the crowd, looking for a familiar face. Most of the men looked like businessmen, with long coats over their black suits. The few people he recognized as neighbours looked warmer in their work jackets. Occasionally he heard someone speaking Norwegian, but most of the talk was in English.
    “Good morning, Erik. Isn’t this a fine day?” Erik felt a hand rest heavily on his shoulders. He glanced up to see Gunnar Haugen. “All ready to buy a lot and start a business?”
    Erik grinned back. “I think I’ll just watch today.”
    “You watch us, then,” said Mr. Haugen. “We’ve got some good ones picked out.”
    The first lots sold for more than Rolf was paying for their hundred and sixty acres. Erik looked anxiously at Lars. Maybe he couldn’t afford that much.
    Lars wrote something in a notebook. Gunnar Haugen, on his other side, nodded.
    A few minutes later they bought two lots, side by side.
    Mr. Haugen went to arrange payment in the auctioneer’s tent while Lars looked around the crowd. “Where’s Olaf?” he asked. “We need to unload that wagon.”
    Erik ran beside Lars as he strode toward his new lot. Olaf was already there. “I saw you bid,” he said, pulling a long timber from the wagon. “I knew you’d want to move quickly.” The cowboy, Jim, grabbed the other end of the board.
    Lars pulled out a plank. Erik caught the end as it came off the wagon.
    Together the four of them unloaded the wagon in minutes. Jim left to see if Pete had bought a lot, while Olaf and Lars climbed onto the wagon seat.
    Lars looked at Erik. “You coming along?” he asked.
    Erik climbed into the wagon box, kneeling behind the seat. Now that the rain had stopped, he hoped the sun would come out and dry his clothes.
    Gunnar Haugen waved as they drove away. “Hurry back,” he said. “I should have this all sold by then.”
    “What are you going to do with the land where you’ve been living?” Erik asked.
    “It’s not mine,” said Lars. “I just rented the land for a few months. We wanted to be close to town so we could do what we’re doing right now.”
    “Move your building as soon as you bought a lot?” asked Erik.
    “Ja, and sell lumber as soon as people want to buy it.”
    On the way they met two wagons loaded with lumber. “It looks like other people had the same idea,” said Erik. “Maybe there will be no one to buy your wood.”
    “Not everyone hauled their own lumber from Hanley. We’ll sell it all, you’ll see.”
    Up ahead, Erik saw a building where there hadn’t been one before. Fascinated, he watched it move toward them, seeming to float over the prairie. As it drew closer, he wasn’t surprised to see it was Lars’s house, pulled by six oxen. Rolf walked beside the building and a man Erik didn’t know walked by the oxen. The last two oxen were Black and Socks.
    Heavy ropes stretched between the skids and the oxen.
    “This is what I like to see!” exclaimed Lars. “Hard-working men.”
    “Don’t tell us you didn’t buy a lot!” Rolf called back.
    “Don’t worry, we have two!” Lars replied. “They’re in the northeast corner. Gunnar is there.”
    “Oxen move too slow,” said Olaf as they drove past.
    “But they’re strong,” Erik defended