WHAT THE WAVES BRING
Bertha's mother had just come in from a hard morning's work in the
fields. She had been helping her husband weed the garden.
She spent a great deal of time outdoors in the summer-time, as many
German peasant women do. They do a large share of the work in
ploughing the grain-fields and harvesting the crops. They are much
stronger than their American cousins.
"Supper is all ready and waiting for you," said Bertha.
The little girl had prepared a dish of sweet fruit soup which her
mother had taught her to make.
[Illustration: Bertha's Home.]
"It is very good," said her father when he had tasted it. "My little
Bertha is getting to be quite a housekeeper."
"Indeed, it is very good," said her mother. "You learned your lesson
well, my child."
Bertha was quite abashed by so much praise. She looked down upon her
plate and did not lift her eyes again till Gretchen began to tell of
a new amber bracelet which had just been given to one of the
neighbours.
"It is beautiful," said Gretchen, quite excitedly. "The beads are
such a clear, lovely yellow. They look so pretty on Frau Braun's
neck, I don'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 so he
bought this necklace at a fair and sent it to his sister as a
remembrance. He wrote her a letter all about the sights in Cologne,
and asked Frau Braun to come and visit him and his wife.
"He promised her in the letter that if she would come, he would take
her to see the grand Cologne cathedral. He said thousands of
strangers visit it every year, because every one knows it is one of
the most beautiful buildings in all Europe.
"Then he said she should also see the Church of Saint Ursula, where
the bones of the eleven thousand maidens can still be seen in their
glass cases."
"Do you know the story of St. Ursula, Gretchen?" asked her father.
"Yes, indeed, sir. Ursula was the daughter of an English king. She
was about to be married, but she said that before the wedding she
would go to Rome on a pilgrimage.
"Eleven thousand young girls went with the princess. On her way home
she 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 afterward built in her memory. Ursula was made a saint by
the Pope, and the bones of the young girls were preserved in glass
cases in the church."
"Did Frau Braun tell of anything else her brother wrote?" asked her
mother.
"He spoke of the bridge of boats across the river, and said she would
enjoy watching it open and shut to let the steamers and big rafts
pass through. And he told of the Cologne water that is sold in so
many of the shops. It is hard to tell which makes the town most
famous, the great 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 then
laid across the tops and fastened upon them. Vessels cannot pass
under a bridge of this kind, so it has to be opened from time to
time. They say it is always interesting to see this done."
"Yes, Frau Braun said she would rather see the bridge of boats than
anything else in the city. She has already begun to plan how she can
save up enough money to make the trip."
"I will go over there to-morrow to see her new necklace," said
Bertha. "But what is amber, father?"
"If you should go to the northern part of Germany, Bertha, you would
see great numbers of men, women, and children, busy on the shores of
the ocean. The work is greatest in the rough days of autumn, when a
strong wind is blowing from the northeast.
"Then the men dress themselves as though they were going out into a
storm. They arm themselves with nets and plunge into the waves,
which are bringing treasure to the shore. It is the beautiful amber
we admire so much.
"The women and children are waiting on the sands, and as the men
bring in their nets, the contents are given into their hands. They
separate the precious lumps of amber from the weeds to which they are
clinging."
Their father stopped to fill his pipe, and the children thought he
had come 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
will answer your question at once.
"A long time ago, longer than you can imagine, Bertha, forests were
growing along the shores of the Baltic Sea. There was a great deal
of gum in the trees of these forests. It oozed out of the trees in
the same manner as gum from the spruce-tree and resin from the pine.
"Storms arose, and beds of sand and clay drifted over the forests.
They were buried away for thousands of years, it may be. But the
motion of the 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,
long time. Wise men use the word 'fossilized' when they speak of
what has happened to it. The now beautiful, changed gum is called
amber.
"There are different ways of getting it. I told you how it comes
drifting in on the waves when the winds are high and the water is
rough. But on the pleasant summer days, when the sea is smooth and
calm, the men go out a little way from the shore in boats. They
float about, looking earnestly over the sides of the boats to the
bottom of the sea.
"All at once, they see something. Down go their long hooks through
the water. A moment afterward, they begin to tow a tangle of stones
and seaweed to the shore. As soon as they land, they begin to sort
out the great mass. Perhaps they will rejoice in finding large
pieces of amber in the collection.
"There is still another way of getting amber. I know Hans will be
most interested 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
daring lad. He was always longing for the time when he should grow
up and be a soldier, and possibly take part in some war.
"Children," their father went on, "you have all heard of divers and
of their dangerous work under the sea. Gretchen was telling me the
other day about her geography lesson, and of the pearl-divers along
the shores of India. I did not tell her then that some men spend
their lives 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 through
these. 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 helmet of each diver. Besides these men there is an overseer
who has charge of everything.
"Sometimes the divers stay for hours on the bed of the sea, and work
away at the amber tangles."
"But suppose anything happens to the air-tubes and the men fail to
get as much air as they need?" said Hans. "Is there any way of
letting those in the boat know they are in trouble? And, besides
that, how do the others know when it is time to raise the divers with
their precious loads?"
"There is a safety-rope reaching from the boat to the men. When they
pull this rope it is a sign that they wish to be drawn up. But I
have told you as much about amber now as you will be able to
remember."
"Are you very tired, father dear?" said Bertha, in her most coaxing
tone.
"Why should I be tired? What do you wish to ask me? Come, speak out
plainly, 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
time for stories of the wonderful beings."
Her father smiled. "It shall be as you wish, Bertha. It is hard to
refuse you when you look at me that way. Come, children, let us sit
in the doorway. Goodwife, put down your work and join us while I
tell the story of Siegfried, the old hero of Germany."