The pilot popped a strawberry into the mouth of John Frederick.
"Tut, tut," said he, "you are in a land of plenty. To-morrow when I come to take you in I will bring more."
"To-morrow!" echoed a dozen voices. "Oh, sir, can we not go in to-day?"
The pilot shook his head.
"Not till to-morrow."
"But the storm came before and drove us far away."
"No storm will drive you away now."
With sinking hearts the pilgrims saw the pilot descend again over the side of the ship and enter his boat and row away.
"I do not believe he will return," said one despairing soul.
But in a few minutes the speaker and every one else on board had begun to pack. Pots and dishes, pans and kettles, clothes, a few spinning-wheels, the few treasured books—all were boxed or wrapped or corded together. The Weisers, remembering gayly that they had once made nine bundles for eight persons, made careful division of their belongings.