"So! Has uncle also gone along?" asked Lambert.
"We shall soon know," said Adam. "I will call." They stopped before the Ditmar house. Adam rose in his stirrups, put both hands to his mouth and screamed so loud that the doves on the roof were frightened, and Melac, the watch-dog, in the yard, began to bark and howl fearfully. "He, holla! Christian Ditmar! holla, he!" However the long figure of old Ditmar did not appear at the upper-half of the door, through which one could see the interior.
Lambert thought best to go right on and not call at William Teichert's. His farm lay somewhat to one side, at the edge of the woods which here bore back from the creek in a great bend and came back to it again near Peter Volz' yard. Here indeed they had to stop, for mother Volz had seen the riders from a distance, and stood before the door with a pitcher of home-brewed beer in each hand, which Peter, her youngest son, had just drawn fresh from the barrel. Mother Volz was much excited, and great tears rolled over her big cheeks as she handed the pitchers to the riders, at the same time scolding the French and her Peter, who would go to the meeting and leave her--an old, helpless woman--alone, the good-for-nothing!
"If I am good for nothing," said Peter, "I cannot help you, mother. But I must always stay at home and play the baby; that is just as it is."
"Yes, that is the case," said Adam, smacking his lips forcibly over his beer, "and the rest of us must have a hard time of it."
"Then give me the mare and you stay here," said the courageous Peter.
Adam was not disinclined to accept so agreeable an offer, and began to climb out of the saddle when the mare, perhaps misunderstanding the motion of the rider, or because she perceived that she was near her own stable, suddenly started on a trot, to Adam's disappointment and Lambert's satisfaction, whose impatience at the unnecessary loitering had become very great.
Now, however, thanks to the mare's fixed purpose to end her unusual labor for the day, without stopping, she went on faster and faster--so that Adam held convulsively to the horn of the saddle, while his long, yellow hair flew about his ears--on along the creek, past John Eisenlord's house, where the women hastened to the door, and called, and wondering looked after those who were rushing past. Thus they went faster and faster until the mare stopped in Bellinger's yard with a jerk and threw her rider over her head in the sand at the feet of his mother and three sisters and younger brother. His mother called out:
"Run, little Anton! and open the stable for the mare, so that she does not crush her skull against the door--the poor beast!"
No one felt concerned for Adam. In fact, this was the usual way in which the mare, after such a trip, returned her rider. He soon got up and rubbed his long legs groaning, while the women surrounded Lambert and inquired about his journey; when he got back; and why in the world he yesterday took the rough road through the woods? how his maid-servant behaved? and why he had brought one from a distance of fifty miles, when he could easily have found one--and perhaps a better one--near by?