It was some time, too, before the former easy tone was resumed. The people had become dejected; for the quick putting aside of the body, the little ceremony there was made in taking it away, gave them a glimpse of the little value that human life bore in their new home. Pastor Hehrmann was particularly affected by the calamity, and exhorted the young people again, in the most earnest manner, to follow the warnings of the Americans, who must, of course, be best acquainted with the dangers of their own land.
The boats approached the little town of Lockport, where one of them was to take in further cargo. The captain, however, collected the passage-money before they arrived here, lest any of his passengers might step on shore, and forget to return. The fares were paid by each of the settlers, as agreed upon, out of their own pockets. Mr. Siebert, now, began to confess that they had, perhaps, brought some things which were not absolutely necessary to their progress, particularly as he now, for the first time, noticed that the German implements differed essentially from the American. His voice, however, found no echo, and the old story—"We've brought them so far with us, and can't leave them now," again silenced every objection.
The boats were to remain half a day at Lockport, and the American advised the Germans to ride over and see the Falls of Niagara, from which they were not very distant, and whither the locomotive would carry them in a very short time.
Pastor Hehrmann determined at once to give his family the treat of this grand view, and Mr. Becher, M. Von Schwanthal, and Dr. Normann offered to accompany them; the rest did not think it worth while to undertake a journey expressly on account of a waterfall, but determined, instead, on viewing the surrounding country, and left the boat before its arrival at the town, so as to reach there about noon.
It was late before the whole company assembled again from their various expeditions. The Niagara excursionists were quite delighted with the lofty and wonderful spectacle which they had enjoyed, and the others, especially the country people, were equally astonished at the singular agricultural arrangements which they had met with. Schmidt, especially, could not contain himself, for he had met with a couple of fellow countrymen at Lockport, and had learnt a thousand different matters from them, which it cost him the greatest possible trouble to believe.
"Round every little field, even if it were only half an acre, there is what they call a fence,"[5] he kept constantly repeating: "why one will have nothing else to do, all one's life, but to chop wood and split it."
"I should like to know what I'm to do here," said a locksmith, who had been into one of the log-houses; "why everything is made of wood here that we make of iron. The fences may be all very well; but when it comes to hasps, and hinges, and door-locks of wood—why, there is an end of everything."
"Well, thus much I can see," said the tailor, "they don't use carpets in their houses, that's certain; and as to their having wooden locks, that seems to me quite natural; I should like to see the thief that could find anything in them worth carrying away."
"They've got no wheels to their ploughs," said Schmidt; "not the least vestige of a wheel."
"And one is not safe of one's life in the street!" exclaimed the tailor: "a drove of cows comes along every moment; five times have I been obliged to climb up to the top of one of their high fences; every time the great brutes looked at me as though they would eat me. But—hallo! there's the horn blowing again; the boats are off; so now for Buffalo!"