The smiling valley lay before them, threaded through its broad plain with the river now in flood. Here where they stood the banks rose precipitously; yonder there was a more gradual ascent; but on every side the broad valley was sheltered. The travelers looked their fill, then one by one gave judgment in slow sentences.
"Those are rich and fertile meadows."
"See this fine spring below us!"
"How quickly would fruit trees grow and vineyards cover the hillsides!"
"It is like"—the voice sank to a whisper—"it is like the valleys of Germany!"
As they descended the steep hill, Meyndert pointed out the Indian village at the far end of the valley. It was a time of year when food was abundant and the villages were comfortable. As the visitors approached, children dashed for cover in the neat wigwams set on each side of a narrow street, and women, busy with baking or weaving, looked up in amazement. Toward the tallest of the wigwams, Meyndert led his company. In its doorway sat two Indians smoking, at sight of whom he called a loud "Ho!" For a while the three talked together while the Germans waited, aware from Meyndert's gestures that he was telling their errand. Presently, in response to a shout, several Indian women brought bearskins and deerskins from the wigwam and spread them down under a great tree. Thither the Germans were led, and there they and the three Indians sat down.
At once Meyndert pointed to one of his hosts, enormous of body and painted with snakes and arrows. He called him, as nearly as the Germans could understand, "Quagnant." Quagnant came, so Meyndert indicated by broken sentences and gestures, from a valley beyond. He was a chief over the Indians in this valley as well as his own. He delivered now a long speech, whose meaning Meyndert made fairly clear. He spoke very formally and solemnly after the manner of the Indian people. He and his friends would be glad to have the strangers come among them. He had heard of the wonderful journey of the King of Rivers and other great chiefs who were overlords in the Five Nations, but he did not know what had befallen them or whether they had returned, since they lived far, far to the west. He was sorry that these new brethren had been so afflicted. Here they might have, if they wished, a peaceful haven. His people would help them with food and skins and show them how to build their houses.
Having finished his speech to the happy Germans, Quagnant commanded that a feast be made. Together all ate solemnly of Indian bread and smoked meat, and took great whiffs from a long pipe lighted and passed by Quagnant. Then, supplied with food for the journey and with light hearts, the Germans started for Schenectady.
From Schenectady to Albany the Indians took the travelers in their canoes, then the Germans set out on foot, keeping as near the river as possible. They had traveled for a day when they heard a shout, and looking down saw two rowboats, one containing a passenger, the other towed. With an answering shout they descended the rocky bank to the shore.
"I have been watching and watching," cried Conrad. "Have you been to Schoharie? What did you find? Did you see our friends?"