Chapter IX.

by James Fenimore Cooper

　　He turned him round, and fled amain With hurry and dash to the beach again; He twisted over from side to side, And laid his cheek to the cleaving tide; The strokes of his plunging arms are fleet, And with all his might he flings his feet, But the water-sprites are round him still, To cross his path and work him ill. --The Culprit Fay.The first step in the conjuration of the bee-hunter was, to producean impression on the minds of his untutored observers, by resortingto a proper amount of mummery and mystical action. This he wasenabled to do with some effect, in consequence of having practisedas a lad in similar mimicry, by way of pastime. The Germans, and thedescendants of Germans in America, are not of a very high class, asrespects education, taken as a body, and they retain many of themost inveterate of the superstitions of their Teutonic ancestors.Although the bee-hunter himself was of purely English descent, hecame from a State that was in part peopled by these Germans andtheir descendants; and, by intercourse with them, he had acquired acertain knowledge of their notions on the subject of necromancy,that he now found was of use. So far as gravity of mien, solemngrimaces, and unintelligible mutterings were concerned, le Bourdonplayed his part to admiration; and by the time he had led the partyhalf the distance he intended to go, our necromancer, or "medicine-man," had complete possession of the imaginations of all thesavages, the two or three chiefs already mentioned alone excepted.At this stage of the proceedings occurred a little incident, whichgoes to prove the disposition of the common mind to contribute indeceiving itself, and which was of considerable assistance to leBourdon, in maintaining his assumed character.

　　It will be remembered that the place where the Indians had foundtheir strongest scent was on the hill-side, or the spot where thehalf-filled barrel had let out most of its contents. Near this spottheir new fire was still brightly blazing, and there Wolfseyeremained, regaling one of his senses, at least, with an odor that hefound so agreeable. But the bee-hunter knew that he should greatlyincrease the wonder of the savages by leading them to a new scent-spot, one to which there was no visible clew, and where the odor wasprobably much stronger than on the hill-side. Accordingly he did notapproach the fire, but kept around the base of the hill, just enoughwithin the influence of the light to pick his way readily, and yetso distant from it as to render his countenance indistinct andmysterious. No sooner, however, had he got abreast of the scent-spotknown to the savages, than the crowd endeavored to lead him towardit, by gestures and hints, and, finally, by direct intimations thathe was going astray. All this our "medicine-man" disregarded; heheld his way steadily and solemnly toward that place at the foot ofthe hill where he knew that the filled barrel had let out itscontents, and where he, reasonably enough, expected to findsufficient traces of the whiskey to answer his purposes. At first,this pertinacity provoked the crowd, which believed he was goingwrong; but a few words from Crowsfeather, the principal chief,caused the commotion to cease. In a few more minutes le Bourdonstopped, near the place of his destination. As a fresh scent ofwhiskey was very perceptible here, a murmur of admiration, notunmixed with delight, passed among the attendants.

　　"Now, let the young men build a fire for me" said the bee-hunter,solemnly--"not such a fire as that which is burning on the hill, buta medicine-fire. I smell the whiskey spring, and want a medicine-light to see it."

　　A dozen young men began to collect the brush; in a minute a pile ofsome size had been accumulated on a flat rock, within twenty feet ofthe spot where le Bourdon knew that the cask had been dashed topieces. When he thought the pile sufficiently large, he toldCrowsfeather that it might be lighted by bringing a brand from theother fire.

　　"This will not be a medicine-light, for that can come only from'medicine-matches,'" he added; "but I want a fire to see the shapeof the ground. Put in the brand, brothers; let us have a flame."

　　The desire of the bee-hunter was gratified, and the whole of thebase of the hill around the spot where the filled cask had broken,was illuminated.

　　"Now, let all the Pottawattamies stand back," added le Bourdon,earnestly. "It might cost a warrior his life to come forward toosoon--or, if not his life, it might give a rheumatism that can neverbe cured, which is worse. When it is time for my red brothers toadvance, they will be called."

　　As the bee-hunter accompanied this announcement by suitablegestures, he succeeded in ranging all of the silent, but excitedsavages on three sides of his fire, leaving that next his mysteriousspring to himself, alone. When all was arranged, le Bourdon movedslowly, but unaccompanied, to the precise spot where the cask hadbroken. Here he found the odor of the whiskey so strong, as toconvince him that some of the liquor must yet remain. On examiningmore closely, he ascertained that several shallow cavities of theflat rock, on which the cask had been dashed, still contained a gooddeal of the liquor; enough to prove of great assistance to hismedicine character.

　　All this while the bee-hunter kept one portion of his faculties onthe alert, in order to effect his escape. That he might deceive fora time, aided as he was by so many favorable circumstances, he didnot doubt; but he dreaded the morning and the results of a night ofreflection and rest. Crowsfeather, in particular, troubled him; andhe foresaw that his fate would be terrible, did the savages once getan inkling of the deception he was practising. As he stood there,bending over the little pools of whiskey, he glanced his eyes towardthe gloom which pervaded the northern side of the hill, andcalculated the chances of escape by trusting to his speed. All ofthe Pottawattamies were on the opposite side, and there was athicket favorably placed for a cover, so near that the rifle wouldscarce have time to perform its fatal office, ere he might hope tobury himself within its leaves. So tempting did the occasion appear,that, for a single instant, le Bourdon forgot his caution, and hismummeries, and had actually advanced a step or two in the directiontoward which he contemplated flight, when, on glancing an uneasylook behind him, he perceived Crowsfeather and his two intimatecounsellors stealthily preparing their rifles, as if they distrustedhis intentions. This at once induced a change of plan, and broughtthe bee-hunter back to a sense of his critical position, and of theindispensable necessity of caution to a man in his situation.

　　Le Bourdon now seemingly gave all his attention to the rocks wherehe stood, and out of which the much-coveted liquor was expected toflow; though his thoughts were still busily employed in consideringthe means of escape, the whole time. While stooping over thedifferent pools, and laying his plans for continuing his medicine-charms, the bee-hunter saw how near he had been to committing agreat mistake. It was almost as indispensable to carry off thecanoe, as it was to carry off himself; since, with the canoe, notonly would all his own property, but pretty Margery, and Gershom andhis wife, be at the mercy of the Pottawattamies; whereas, bysecuring the boat, the wide Kalamazoo would serve as a nearlyimpassable barrier, until time was given to the whites to escape.His whole plan was changed by this suggestion, and he no longerthought of the thicket and of flight inland. At the same time thatthe bee hunter was laying up in his mind ideas so important to hisfuture movements, he did not neglect the necessary examination ofthe means that might be required to extend and prolong his influenceover the minds of the superstitious children of the forest on whomhe was required to practise his arts. His thoughts reverted to thecanoe, and he concocted a plan by which he believed it possible toget possession of his little craft again. Once on board it, by onevigorous shove he fancied he might push it within the cover of therice-plants, where he would be in reasonable safety against thebullets of the savages. Could he only get the canoe on the outerside of the narrow belt of the plant, he should deem himself safe!

　　Having arranged his course in his own mind, le Bourdon now beckonedto Crowsfeather to draw near, at the same time inviting the wholeparty to approach within a few feet of the spot where he himselfstood. The bee-hunter had brought with him from the boat a fragmentof the larger end of a cane fishing-rod, which he used as a sort ofwand. Its size was respectable, and its length about eight feet.With this wand he pointed out the different objects he named, and itanswered the very important purpose of enabling him to make certainsmall changes in the formation of the ground, that were of thegreatest service to him, without permitting curious eyes to come sonear as to detect his artifices.

　　"Now open your ears, Crowsfeather; and you, Cloud; and all of you,young braves," commenced the bee-hunter, solemnly, and with asteadiness that was admirable; "yes, open wide your ears. The GreatSpirit has given the red man a nose that he might smell--does theCloud smell more than common?"

　　"Sartain--smell whiskey--this Whiskey Centre dey say--nat'ral datsuch smell be here."

　　"Do all the chiefs and warriors of the Pottawattamies who arepresent, also smell the same?"

　　"S'pose so--why he don't, eh? Got nose--can smell whiskey good way,tell you."

　　"It is right they should smell the liquor here, for out of this rocka whiskey spring will soon begin to run. It will begin with a verysmall stream, but soon will there be enough to satisfy everybody.The Great Manitou knows that his red children are dry; he has sent a'medicine-man' of the pale-faces to find a spring for them. Now,look at this piece of rock--it is dry--not even the dew has yetmoistened it. See--it is made like a wooden bowl, that it may holdthe liquor of the spring. Let Crowsfeather smell it--smell it,Cloud--let all my young men smell it, too, that they may be certainthat there is nothing there."

　　On this invitation, accompanied as it was by divers flourishes ofthe wand, and uttered in a deep, solemn tone of voice, the wholeparty of the Indians gathered around the small hollow basin-likecavity pointed out by the bee-hunter, in order both to see and tosmell. Most knelt, and each and all applied their noses to the rock,as near the bowl as they could thrust them. Even the dignified anddistrustful Crowsfeather could not refrain from bending in thecrowd. This was the moment for which le Bourdon wished, and heinstantly prepared to carry out his design.

　　Previously, however, to completing the project originally conceived,a momentary impulse prevailed which urged him to adopt a new mode ofeffecting his escape. Now, that most of the savages were on theirhands and knees, struggling to get their noses as near as possibleto the bowl, and all were intent on the same object, it occurred tothe bee-hunter, who was almost as active as the panther of theAmerican forest, that he might dash on toward the canoe, and makehis escape without further mummery. Had it been only a question ofhuman speed perhaps such would have been the wisest thing he coulddo; but a moment's reflection told him how much swifter than anyfoot of man was the bullet of a rifle. The distance exceeded ahundred yards, and it was altogether in bright light, by means ofthe two fires, Wolfseye continuing to pile brush on that near whichhe still maintained his post, as if afraid the precious liquor wouldstart out of the scent-spot, and be wasted should he abandon hisward. Happily, therefore, le Bourdon relinquished his dangerousproject almost as soon as it was entertained, turning his attentionimmediately to the completion of the plan originally laid.

　　It has been said that the bee-hunter made sundry flourishes with hiswand. While the savages were most eager in endeavoring to smell therock, he lightly touched the earth that confined the whiskey in thelargest pool, and opened a passage by which the liquor could trickledown the side of the rock, selecting a path for itself, until itactually came into the bowl, by a sinuous but certain channel.

　　Here was a wonder! Liquor could not only be smelled, but it could beactually seen! As for Cloud, not satisfied with gratifying the twosenses connected with the discoveries named, he began to lap withhis tongue, like a dog, to try the effect of taste.

　　"The Manitou does not hide his face from the Pottawattamie!"exclaimed this savage, rising to his feet in astonishment; "this isthe fire-water, and such as the pale-faces bring us for skins!"

　　Others imitated his example, and the exclamations of wonder anddelight flew from mouth to mouth, in a torrent of vehementassertions and ejaculations. So great a "medicine" charm had neverbefore been witnessed in that tribe, or in that region, and ahundred more might succeed, before another should equal this in itswelcome character. There was whiskey, of a certainty, not much inquantity, to be sure, but of excellent quality, as several affirmed,and coming in a current that was slowly increasing! This last signwas owing to the circumstance that le Bourdon had deepened theoutlet of the pool, permitting a larger quantity to flow down thelittle channel.

　　The moment had now come for a decisive step. The bee-hunter knewthat his precious rivulet would soon cease to run, and that he mustcarry out his design under the first impressions of his charm, orthat he probably would not be permitted to carry it out, at all. Atthis moment even Crowsfeather appeared to be awed by what he hadseen; but a chief so sagacious might detect the truth, anddisappointment would then be certain to increase the penalties hewould incur.

　　Making many sweeps of his wand, and touching various points of therock, both to occupy the attention of the savages, and to divert itfrom his pool, the bee-hunter next felt in his pocket and drew out asmall piece of resin that he knew was there; the remains of a storewith which he resined the bow of his fiddle; for our hero had aviolin among his effects, and often used it in his solitary abodesin the openings. Breaking this resin on a coal, he made it flash andblaze; but the quantity was too small to produce the "medicine-fire"he wanted.

　　"I have more in my canoe," he said, addressing himself to theinterpreter; "while I go for it, the red men must not stir, lestthey destroy a pale-face's doings. Least of all they must go nearthe spring. It would be better for the chiefs to lead away theiryoung men, and make them stand under the oak, where nothing can bedone to hurt the 'medicine-charm.'"

　　The bee-hunter pointed to a tree that stood in the direction of thecanoe, in order to prevent distrust, though he had taken care toselect a spot whence the little craft could not be seen, on accountof an intervening swell in the land, Crowsfeather led his warriorsto the indicated place, where they took their stations, in silentand grave attention.

　　In the mean while, le Bourdon continued his incantations aloud;walking toward his canoe, waving his hand, and uttering a great dealof gibberish as he slowly proceeded. In passing the tree, our hero,though he did not turn his head, was sensible that he was followedby the chiefs, a movement against which he did not dare toremonstrate, though it sadly disappointed him. Neither hastening norretarding his steps, however, in consequence of this unpleasantcircumstance, the young man continued on; once or twice sweeping thewand behind him, in order to ascertain if he could reach hisfollowers. But Crowsfeather and his companions stopped when theyreached the swell of land which concealed the canoe, suffering the"medicine-man" to move on alone. Of this fact le Bourdon becameaware, by turning three times in a circle, and pointing upward atthe heavens with his wand, as he did so.

　　It was a nervous moment when the bee-hunter reached the canoe. Hedid not like to look behind him again, lest the chiefs shouldsuspect his motive, and, in shoving off from the shore, he might doso within a few yards of the muzzle of a hostile rifle. There was notime to lose, however, for any protracted delay on his part wouldcertainly cause the savages to approach, through curiosity, if notthrough distrust of his motives. He stepped into his light craft,therefore, without any delay, still flourishing his wand, andmuttering his incantations. The first thing was to walk to the sternof the canoe, that his weight might raise the bow from the shore,and also that he might have an excuse for turning round, and thusget another look at the Indians. So critical was his situation, andso nervous did it make our young hero, that he took no heed of thestate of matters in the canoe, until the last moment. When he hadturned, however, he ascertained that the two principal chiefs haddrawn so near as to be within twenty yards of him, though neitherheld his rifle at "ready," but each leaned on it in a carelessmanner, as if in no anticipation of any necessity to make a speedyuse of the weapon. This state of things could not last, and leBourdon braced his nerves for the final trial. On looking for hispaddle, however, he found that of three which the canoe hadcontained when he left it, not even one was to be seen! These wilysavages had, out of all question, taken their opportunity to removeand secrete these simple, but almost indispensable, means of motion.

　　At the instant when first apprised of the loss just mentioned, thebee-hunter's heart sunk within him, and he fell into the seat in thestern of the canoe, nearly with the weight of so much lead. Then aspecies of desperation came over him, and putting an end of his canewand upon the bottom, with a vigorous shove he forced the canoeswiftly astern and to windward. Sudden as was this attempt, andrapid as was the movement, the jealous eyes and ready hands of thechiefs seemed to anticipate it. Two shots were fired within a fewseconds after the canoe had quitted the shore. The reports of therifles were a declaration of hostilities, and a general yell,accompanied by a common rush toward the river, announced that thewhole band now understood that some deception had been practised attheir expense.

　　Although the two chiefs in advance had been so very prompt, theywere not quick enough for the rapid movement of the canoe. Thedistance between the stern of the boat and the rice-plants was sosmall, that the single desperate shove given by the bee-huntersufficed to bury his person in the cover, before the leadenmessengers reached him. Anticipating this very attempt, and knowingthat the savages might get their range from the part of the canoethat was still in sight, le Bourdon bent his body far over thegunwale, grasping the rice-plants at the same time, and hauling hislittle craft through them, in the way that sailors call "hand overhand." This expedient most probably saved his life. While bendingover the gunwale, he heard the crack of the rifles, and the whizzingof two bullets that appeared to pass just behind him. By this timethe whole of the canoe was within the cover.

　　In a moment like that we are describing, incidents pass so rapidlyas almost to defy description. It was not twenty seconds from theinstant when le Bourdon first put his wand down to push the canoefrom the land, ere he found his person emerging from the cover, onits weather side. Here he was effectually concealed from hisenemies, not only on account of the cover made by the rice-plants,but by reason of the darkness; the light not extending far enoughfrom the fire to illumine objects on the river. Nevertheless, newdifficulties presented themselves. When clear of the rice, the wind,which still blew strong, pressed upon his canoe to such a degree asnot only to stop its further movement from the shore, but so as toturn it broadside to, to its power. Trying with his wand, the bee-hunter ascertained that it would no longer reach the bottom. Then heattempted to use the cane as a paddle, but soon found it had notsufficient hold of the water to answer for such an implement. Themost he could effect with it, in that way, was to keep the canoe fora short distance along the outer edge of the rice, until it reacheda spot where the plant extended a considerable distance farthertoward the middle of the river. Once within this little forest ofthe wild rice, he was enabled to drag the canoe farther and fartherfrom the north shore, though his progress was both slow andlaborious, on account of the resistance met.

　　All this time, the savages were not idle. Until the canoe got withinits new cover, it was at no instant fifty yards from the beach, andthe yells, and orders, and whoopings sounded as if uttered directlyin le Bourdon's ear. A splashing in the water soon announced thatour fugitive was pursued by swimmers. As the savages knew that thebeehunter was without a paddle, and that the wind blew fresh, theexpectation of overtaking their late captive, in this manner, was byno means chimerical. Half a dozen active young men would prove veryformidable to one in such a situation, more especially whileentangled in the mazes of the rice-plant. The bee-hunter was so wellconvinced of this circumstance, that no sooner did he hear thesplashes of the swimmers, than he redoubled his exertions to pullhis canoe farther from the spot. But his progress was slow, and hewas soon convinced that his impunity was more owing to the fact thathis pursuers did not know where to find him, than to the rapidity ofhis flight.

　　Notwithstanding his exertions, and the start obtained, le Bourdonsoon felt assured that the swimmers were within a hundred feet ofhim, their voices coming from the outer margin of the cover in whichhe now lay, stationary. He had ceased dragging the canoe ahead, froman apprehension of being heard, though the rushing of the wind andthe rustling of the rice might have assured him that the slightnoises made by his own movements would not be very likely to riseabove those sounds. The splashing of the swimmers, and their voices,gradually drew nearer, until the bee-hunter took up his rifle,determined to sacrifice the first savage who approached; hoping,thereby, to intimidate the others. For the first time, it nowoccurred to him that the breech of his rifle might be used as apaddle, and he was resolved to apply it to that service, could heonce succeed in extricating himself from the enemies by whom he wasnearly environed, and from the rice.

　　Just as le Bourdon fancied that the crisis had arrived, and that heshould soon be called on to kill his man, a shout was given by asavage at some distance in the river, and presently calls passedfrom mouth to mouth, among the swimmers. Our hero now listened to adegree that kept his faculty of hearing at a point of painfulattention. The voices and plashes on the water receded, and what wasstartling, a sound was heard resembling that which as produced by apaddle when struck incautiously against the side of a canoe. Was itthen possible that the Chippewa was out, or had the Pottawattamiesone boat that had escaped his attention? The last was not veryprobable, as he had several times counted their little fleet, andwas pretty sure of having taken it all to the other side of theriver. The sound of the paddle was repeated, however; then itoccurred to the bee-hunter, that Pigeonswing might be on the scentfor another scalp.

　　Although the conjecture just mentioned was exceedingly unpleasant tole Bourdon, the chase of the strange canoe gave him an opportunityto drag his own light craft ahead, penetrating deeper and deeperamong the wild rice, which now spread itself to a considerabledistance from the shore, and grew so thick as to make it impossibleto get through the waving mass. At length, wearied with hisexertions, and a little uncertain as to his actual position, ourhero paused, listening intently, in order to catch any sounds thatmight direct his future movements.

　　By this time the savages ceased to call to each other; most probablyconscious of the advantage it gave the fugitive. The bee-hunterperfectly understood that his pursuers must be aware of its beingentirely out of his power to get to windward, and that they wouldkeep along the shore of the river, as he did himself, expecting tosee his canoe sooner or later driven by the wind on the beach. Thishad made him anxious to drag his boat as much toward the outer edgeof the rice as he could get it, and by the puffs of wind that heoccasionally felt, he hoped he had, in a great measure, effected hispurpose. Still he had his apprehensions of the savages; as somewould be very apt to swim quite out into the stream, not only tolook for him, but to avoid being entangled among the plants. It wasonly in the natural channels of the rice, of which there were a goodmany, that a swimmer could very readily make his way, or be in muchsafety. By waiting long enough, moreover, the bee-hunter was sure heshould tire out his pursuers, and thus get rid of them.

　　Just as le Bourdon began to think this last-mentioned purpose hadbeen accomplished, he heard low voices directly to windward, and thesplashing of water, as if more than one man was coming down uponhim, forcing the stalks of the plants aside. He grasped the rifle,and let the canoe drift, which it did slowly, under the power of thewind, notwithstanding the protection of the cover. The swimmersforced their way through the stalks; but it was evident, just then,that they were more occupied by their present pursuit than inlooking for him. Presently a canoe came brushing through the rice,forced by the wind, and dragged by two savages, one of whom swam oneach bow. The last did not see the bee-hunter, or his canoe, the onenearest having his face turned in the opposite direction; but theywere distinctly seen by the former. Surprised that a seizure shouldbe made with so little fracas, le Bourdon bent forward to look thebetter, and, as the stern of the strange canoe came almost under hiseyes, he saw the form of Margery lying in its bottom. His bloodcurdled at this sight; for his first impression was, that thecharming young creature had been killed and scalped; but there beingno time to lose, he sprang lightly from one canoe to the other,carrying the rifle in his hand. As he struck in the bottom of theboat of Gershom, he heard his name uttered in a sweet female voice,and knew that Margery was living. Without stopping, however, toinquire more, he moved to the head of the canoe, and, with a sharpblow on the fingers, made each of the savages release his grasp.Then, seizing the rice-plants, he dragged the little craft swiftlyto windward again. All this was done, as it might be, in an instant;the savages and the canoe being separated some twenty feet, in muchless time than is required to relate the occurrence.

　　"Bourdon, are you injured?" asked Margery, her voice trembling withanxiety.

　　"Not in the least, dear Margery--and you, my excellent girl?"

　　"They caught my canoe, and I almost died of fright; but they haveonly dragged it toward the shore."

　　"God be praised! Is there any paddle in the canoe?"

　　"There are several--one is at your feet, Bourdon--and here, I haveanother."

　　"Then, let us search for my canoe, and get out of the rice. If wecan but find my canoe, we shall be safe enough, for the savages havenothing in which to cross the river. Keep your eyes about you,Margery, and look among the rice for the other boat"

　　The search was not long, but it was intently anxious. At lengthMargery saw the lost canoe just as it was drifting past them, and itwas secured immediately. In a few minutes, le Bourdon succeeded inforcing the two craft into open water, when it was easy for him topaddle both to windward. The reader can readily imagine that ourhero did not permit many minutes to elapse, ere he questioned hiscompanion on the subject of her adventures. Nor was Margeryreluctant to tell them. She had become alarmed at le Bourdon'sprotracted absence, and taking advantage of Pigeonswing lying down,she unloaded her brother's canoe, and went out into the river tolook for the absent one. As a matter of course--though so feminineand far removed from all appearance of coarseness, a true Americangirl in this respect--Margery knew perfectly well how to manage abark canoe. The habits of her life for the last few years, made heracquainted with this simple art; and strength being much less neededthan skill, she had no difficulty in going whither she wished. Thefires served as beacons, and Margery had been a distant witness ofthe bee-hunter's necromancy as well as of his escape. The instantthe latter was effected, she endeavored to join him; and it waswhile incautiously paddling along the outer edge of the rice, withthis intention, that her canoe was seized by two of the swimmers. Assoon as these last ascertained that they had captured a "squaw,"they did not give themselves the trouble to get into the canoe--avery difficult operation with one made of bark, and which is notloaded--but they set about towing the captured craft to the shore,swimming each with a single hand and holding on by the other.

　　"I shall not soon forget this kindness of yours, Margery," said leBourdon, with warmth, when the girl had ended her simple tale, whichhad been related in the most artless and ingenuous manner. "No mancould forget so generous a risk on the part of a young woman in hisbehalf."

　　"I hope you do not think it wrong, Bourdon--I should be sorry tohave you think ill of me!"

　　"Wrong, dear Margery!--but no matter. Let us get ourselves out ofpresent difficulties, and into a place of safety; then I will tellyou honestly what I think of it, and of you, too. Was your brotherawake, dear Margery, when you left the family?"

　　"I believe not--he sleeps long and heavily after drinking. But hecan now drink no more, until he reaches the settlements."

　　"Not unless he finds the whiskey spring," returned the bee-hunter,laughing.

　　The young man then related to his wondering companion the history ofthe mummery and incantations of which she had been a distantspectator. Le Bourdon's heart was light, after his hazards andescape, and his spirits rose as his narrative proceeded. Nor waspretty Margery in a mood to balk his humor. As the bee-hunterrecounted his contrivances to elude the savages, and most especiallywhen he gave the particulars of the manner in which he managed todraw whiskey out of the living rock, the girl joined in hismerriment, and filled the boat with that melody of the laugh of heryears and sex, which is so beautifully described by Halleck.