"You must not interrupt me, if I am to tell my story in an orderly way," said Adam. "Where was I?"
"The poor boy!" said Adam. "I could not blame him. He should have gone in and covered the Indian--who was about naked, so that the women were ashamed."
"Yes, indeed; and he had swum through the creek, and lay on the hearth as drunk as a red-skin can be, and snored so that we could hear him outdoors. Then the others had a good laugh at my expense, and, since, they have constantly jeered me about the drunken fellow, though one should not paint the devil on the wall. I indeed could do nothing about it. But little Anton should have been wiser. On account of what took place then, they would not believe my message to-day; and had I not said and sworn that Herkimer himself had told my father, they would have remained at home, except Aunt Ursul, who immediately saddled both her horses."
"So! Has uncle also gone along?" asked Lambert.
"We shall soon know," said Adam. "I will call." They stopped before the Ditmar house. Adam rose in his stirrups, put both hands to his mouth and screamed so loud that the doves on the roof were frightened, and Melac, the watch-dog, in the yard, began to bark and howl fearfully. "He, holla! Christian Ditmar! holla, he!" However the long figure of old Ditmar did not appear at the upper-half of the door, through which one could see the interior.
Lambert thought best to go right on and not call at William Teichert's. His farm lay somewhat to one side, at the edge of the woods which here bore back from the creek in a great bend and came back to it again near Peter Volz' yard. Here indeed they had to stop, for mother Volz had seen the riders from a distance, and stood before the door with a pitcher of home-brewed beer in each hand, which Peter, her youngest son, had just drawn fresh from the barrel. Mother Volz was much excited, and great tears rolled over her big cheeks as she handed the pitchers to the riders, at the same time scolding the French and her Peter, who would go to the meeting and leave her--an old, helpless woman--alone, the good-for-nothing!
"If I am good for nothing," said Peter, "I cannot help you, mother. But I must always stay at home and play the baby; that is just as it is."