"We do not wish to be undutiful," explained John Conrad. "What we ask is only justice. We did not promise to stay forever in a barren land." John Conrad's voice trembled as it had trembled in Gross Anspach when he spoke of the country which they had seen in their dreams. "We wish to go to Schoharie."
"Whether or not you 'wish to go to Schoharie,'" the Governor mocked them like a child, "you are to stay here." Now the Governor stamped his foot. "Here is your land, here you are to live and die!"
The agent could not resist a temptation to add a word.
"You should be shot for your impertinence!"
Then the agent gave a wild scream. The punishment which he proposed so angrily seemed likely to be carried into effect upon himself. Upon the little house he saw an armed host approaching. Waiting for sound of strife, the young men had come to the defense of their elders.
"They will murder us!" screamed the agent.
Young Conrad stepped inside the door.
"We ask only—" Then Conrad paused. Neither the Governor nor the agent was listening to what he was saying. Even the eyes of his father, which had looked upon him with horrified amazement, were turned away. From the young men behind him came a loud warning to run, and he turned his head. Among the trees was a gleam of red and a glitter of steel. The agent's servant had made a swift trip to the British garrison at Albany.
"Captain, collect these guns," commanded the Governor. Then he turned to young Conrad. "Another stirring-up of rebellion and you will pay the penalty of a rebel."
Now the Germans gave up their arms and went back to their work. Some of the trees were said to be fit for felling and a few kilns were constructed. In these the pine knots were first to be burned. To the task of gathering them the little children were appointed and Conrad was made their superintendent. The work was humiliating and he obeyed unwillingly. His father had said nothing to him of his rebellion, but he knew that it was constantly in John Conrad's mind. The presence of the red-coated soldiers, who treated the whole settlement like dangerous criminals, was, John Conrad may have thought, reproach enough.