Like millions to follow them, the Germans soon gazed from Nuttall's Island across the bay. They were given little houses to live in, and as the magistrate of Oberdorf had greeted them on Blackheath, they greeted presently their friends from the other ships. There were happy reunions, there were stories of death and danger by sea, there was the common hope of better things.
When the cool winds of September began to blow and they were still waiting to be released from what seemed like captivity, the Germans became impatient and then frightened. They wished to set to work so that they might the sooner finish their task of tar-making and begin to labor on their own account. During the long journey boys and girls had grown up; like Conrad, other boys longed for adventure, and like Margareta, other young women wished to begin the establishment of a home. Among the Germans there was suddenly a new spirit of independence. Here was not the goal for which they had striven.
"The Governor has not completed his arrangements," said John Conrad to his impatient countrymen.
"Then let us go to that Schoharie which the Indians gave us." Conrad spoke for all the younger Germans.
"We are bound to make tar," reminded John Conrad, who looked at his son in amazement.
Presently came Governor Hunter, who had crossed the ocean in one of the last ships of the fleet. His visit, so eagerly expected, had a sorrowful outcome. From one end of the settlement to the other he walked and at the cabin of John Conrad he paused.
"You are to go soon to Livingston Manor to begin your work. You are the man who was in the Queen's audience room. I depend upon you to be a good influence among your fellows." His bright gaze traveled from child to child. "You have a large family."
Before John Conrad could answer, young Conrad stepped from the doorway, disregarding his father's frown.
"Oh, sir, I wish we might go to Schoharie!"