They felt most uncomfortable at night, when, for the sake of room, they were put into hammocks, which were suspended in rows of three, one above another, from the side. In the second night the ropes at the head of the shoemaker, who just then was dreaming uneasily about robbers and wild beasts, gave way, and his head tumbling down, while his legs remained in the air, he awoke, with such a cry, that all jumped out and came about him. It was some time before they could pacify him, and at first he stared at the tailor, who was shaking him, with such wild rolling eyes, that the latter let him go, and sprang a step backwards.
The travelling in the canal-boat was very slow; the roads (as it rained during a couple of hours each night) were bad, and almost bottomless, and in many places the horses could scarcely wade through the mud; but for this one must be prepared in all travelling by canal. It is slow work, and the only chance of enjoyment which a traveller on such a ride has, is to walk afoot alongside when he can. In places where the road was tolerably elevated and dry, the passengers often got out and wandered for miles beside the long ark-like box.
In the meanwhile, earnest debates had arisen in the second boat, and that as to the name of the future town which they were about to found. Siebert, senior, was unhesitatingly for "Teutonia," while the junior considered "Hermannstadt" more suitable; Becher was for calling it "Roma," and Von Schwanthal was of opinion that it must be called the "Hoffnung," (Hope), as they had began their journey in the "Hoffnung." Parson Hehrmann supported the latter, and Herbold alone expressed himself very decidedly against all such German-sounding names, and required that it should be called "Concordia." As he had Dr. Normann and the ladies on his side, he carried off the victory at this extraordinary meeting by an overwhelming majority, and the town was provisionally christened "Concordia," with a reservation, of course, to take the opinions of all the settlers on the subject. Some hours might have elapsed when the boats stopped at a small town, both to change horses and to unload a great portion of the cargo—at least, of the foremost boat. Here the whole of the passengers came together once more, and the debate about the name began again.
"Concordia!" exclaimed the shoemaker. "No, much obliged—that name wont suit; we are regular Germans, and I don't see why we should have such a foreign word as that. The pastor's name pleases me better, 'Hoffnung.'"
"Shoemaker's-hope!" laughed the little tailor, giving him a poke in the ribs; "that would sound well."
"Or Tailor's-cabbage!" grumbled the other, in return.
"But," expostulated Mr. Becher, "'Concordia' means Union, and union, you know, is to reign among us."
"Well, then, why not call it 'Union' at once?" asked the shoemaker, in surprise. "Why have such a far-fetched expression, which half of us don't understand?"
"Can't you understand Concordia?" smiled the cabinet-maker.
"No, nor you neither, however you may make believe!"