The remainder of the society had meanwhile passed their time in a similar manner, only that the four friends--Schmidt, the shoemaker, the tailor, and the brewer--for whom the landscape had fewer attractions, spread out a due quantity of provisions between them, and were busied in doing ample justice to them. But when it suddenly became dark (which, to their surprise, it did with wonderful rapidity, for in New York they had not noticed the speedy approach of night), they found themselves in the highly disagreeable position of people who are very tired, and have no place where they can properly rest themselves.
"It is very wrong," the shoemaker said, "not to give one so much as a bottle of straw. Surely one can't walk about all night."
"I should like to lie down on the bare boards," said the brewer, looking about him, "but these disgusting people do nothing but spit, and in every direction too, so that one can hardly find a clean place the size of one's foot. What fellows they are! Why, sandmen among us behave themselves better."
"When shall we get to Albany, do you think?" asked Schmidt of one of the engineers, who was pouring some oil on the engine out of a small can.
"Nix versteh!" said the American, shaking his head; "no Dutchman!"
"Well, then, you need not call names, if you don't," exclaimed the brewer, testily, in a loud voice, so that the man who was addressed turned round surprised.
"Don't be a fool!" said the tailor, taking hold of the angry man's arm; "do you think you will sleep any the better for getting your hide full of blows?"
"But it's true, what business had the fellow to talk about 'Doetsch?'"
"Where can the Committee be?" Schmidt now asked; "and I've seen nothing of the Oldenburghers either, since we've been aboard."
"Who knows where they've poked themselves to?" grunted the shoemaker, wrapping himself up more closely in an old mantle with a hundred or so of capes. "I shall seat myself in a corner and wait till daylight; I'm tired of standing about." The others followed his example; and soon, in the wide, and sparingly and weakly lighted lower deck of the great boat, groups of sleepy passengers sat or lay about in all directions, some with their heads resting upon their luggage, some alongside of a chest, and passed the night by no means conveniently, for in addition to their other discomforts, the cool river air blew in from all sides of the open boat, feeling anything but beneficial, and awakening lively longings in the hearts of the travellers for a warm bed.