CHAPTER VIII.
WHAT THE WAVES BRING
BERTHA'S mother had just come in from a hard morning's work in thefields. She had been helping her husband weed the garden.
She spent a great deal of time outdoors in the summer-time, as manyGerman peasant women do. They do a large share of the work in ploughingthe grain-fields and harvesting the crops. They are much stronger thantheir American cousins.
"Supper is all ready and waiting for you," said Bertha.
The little girl had prepared a dish of sweet fruit soup which hermother had taught her to make.
"It is very good," said her father when he had tasted it. "My littleBertha is getting to be quite a housekeeper."
"Indeed, it is very good," said her mother. "You learned your lessonwell, my child."
Bertha was quite abashed by so much praise. She looked down upon herplate and did not lift her eyes again till Gretchen began to tell of anew amber bracelet which had just been given to one of the neighbours.
"It is beautiful," said Gretchen, quite excitedly. "The beads are sucha clear, lovely yellow. They look so pretty on Frau Braun's neck, Idon't wonder she is greatly pleased with her present."
"Who sent it to her?" asked her mother.
"Her brother in Cologne. He is doing well at his trade, and sohe bought this necklace at a fair and sent it to his sister as aremembrance. He wrote her a letter all about the sights in Cologne, andasked Frau Braun to come and visit him and his wife.
"He promised her in the letter that if she would come, he would takeher to see the grand Cologne cathedral. He said thousands of strangersvisit it every year, because every one knows it is one of the mostbeautiful buildings in all Europe.
"Then he said she should also see the Church of Saint Ursula, where thebones of the eleven thousand maidens can still be seen in their glasscases."
"Do you know the story of St. Ursula, Gretchen?" asked her father.
"Yes, indeed, sir. Ursula was the daughter of an English king. She wasabout to be married, but she said that before the wedding she would goto Rome on a pilgrimage.
"Eleven thousand young girls went with the princess. On her way homeshe was married, but when the wedding party had got as far as Cologne,they were attacked by the savage Huns. Every one was killed,--Ursula,her husband, and the eleven thousand maidens. The church was afterwardbuilt in her memory. Ursula was made a saint by the Pope, and the bonesof the young girls were preserved in glass cases in the church."
"Did Frau Braun tell of anything else her brother wrote?" asked hermother.
"He spoke of the bridge of boats across the river, and said she wouldenjoy watching it open and shut to let the steamers and big rafts passthrough. And he told of the Cologne water that is sold in so many ofthe shops. It is hard to tell which makes the town most famous, thegreat cathedral or the Cologne water."
"Father, how was the bridge of boats made?" asked Bertha.
"The boats were moored in a line across the river. Planks were thenlaid across the tops and fastened upon them. Vessels cannot pass undera bridge of this kind, so it has to be opened from time to time. Theysay it is always interesting to see this done."
"Yes, Frau Braun said she would rather see the bridge of boats thananything else in the city. She has already begun to plan how she cansave up enough money to make the trip."
"I will go over there to-morrow to see he new necklace," said Bertha."But what is amber, father?"
"If you should go to the northern part of Germany, Bertha, you wouldsee great numbers of men, women, and children, busy on the shores ofthe ocean. The work is greatest in the rough days of autumn, when astrong wind is blowing from the northeast.
"Then the men dress themselves as though they were going out into astorm. They arm themselves with nets and plunge into the waves, whichare bringing treasure to the shore. It is the beautiful amber we admireso much.
"The women and children are waiting on the sands, and as the men bringin their nets, the contents are given into their hands. They separatethe precious lumps of amber from the weeds to which they are clinging."
Their father stopped to fill his pipe, and the children thought he hadcome to the end of the story.
"But you haven't told us yet what amber is," said Bertha.
"Be patient, my little one, and you shall hear," replied her father,patting her head. "As yet, I have not half told the story. But I willanswer your question at once.
"A long time ago, longer than you can imagine, Bertha, forests weregrowing along the shores of the Baltic Sea. There was a great deal ofgum in the trees of these forests. It oozed out of the trees in thesame manner as gum from the spruce-tree and resin from the pine.
"Storms arose, and beds of sand and clay drifted over the forests. Theywere buried away for thousands of years, it may be. But the motion ofthe sea washes up pieces of the gum, which is of light weight.
"The gum has become changed while buried in the earth such a long, longtime. Wise men use the word 'fossilized' when they speak of what hashappened to it. The now beautiful, changed gum is called amber.
"There are different ways of getting it. I told you how it comesdrifting in on the waves when the winds are high and the water isrough. But on the pleasant summer days, when the sea is smooth andcalm, the men go out a little way from the shore in boats. They floatabout, looking earnestly over the sides of the boats to the bottom ofthe sea.
"All at once, they see something. Down go their long hooks through thewater. A moment afterward, they begin to tow a tangle of stones andseaweed to the shore. As soon as they land, they begin to sort out thegreat mass. Perhaps they will rejoice in finding large pieces of amberin the collection.
"There is still another way of getting amber. I know Hans will be mostinterested in what I am going to say now. It has more of danger in it,and boys like to hear anything in the way of adventure."
Hans looked up and smiled. His father knew him well. He was a daringlad. He was always longing for the time when he should grow up and be asoldier, and possibly take part in some war.
"Children," their father went on, "you have all heard of divers and oftheir dangerous work under the sea. Gretchen was telling me the otherday about her geography lesson, and of the pearl-divers along theshores of India. I did not tell her then that some men spend theirlives diving for amber on the shores of our own country.
"They wear rubber suits and helmets and air-chests of sheet iron."
"How can they see where they are going?" asked Bertha.
"There are glass openings in their helmets, and they can look throughthese. They go out in boats. The crew generally consists of six men.Two of them are divers, and four men have charge of the air-pumps.These pumps force fresh air down through tubes fastened to the helmetof each diver. Besides these men there is an overseer who has charge ofeverything.
"Sometimes the divers stay for hours on the bed of the sea, and workaway at the amber tangles."
"But suppose anything happens to the air-tubes and the men fail to getas much air as they need?" said Hans. "Is there any way of lettingthose in the boat know they are in trouble? And, besides that, how dothe others know when it is time to raise the divers with their preciousloads?"
"There is a safety-rope reaching from the boat to the men. When theypull this rope it is a sign that they wish to be drawn up. But I havetold you as much about amber now as you will be able to remember."
"Are you very tired, father dear?" said Bertha, in her most coaxingtone.
"Why should I be tired? What do you wish to ask me? Come, speak outplainly, little one."
"You tell such lovely fairy-tales, papa, I was just wishing for one.See! The moon is just rising above the tree-tops. It is the very timefor stories of the wonderful beings."
Her father smiled. "It shall be as you wish, Bertha. It is hard torefuse you when you look at me that way. Come, children, let us sit inthe doorway. Goodwife, put down your work and join us while I tell thestory of Siegfried, the old hero of Germany."<
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