Chapter VI.

by James Fenimore Cooper

　　And long shall timorous fancy see The painted chief and pointed spear; And reason's self shall bow the knee To shadows and delusions here. FRENEAU.A bright moon reflected on the earth for about an hour the light ofthe sun, as the latter luminary disappeared. By its aid the bee-hunter, who still continued in the tree, was enabled to watch themovements of the canoes of the Indians, though the persons theycontained soon got to be so indistinct as to render it impossible todo more than count their numbers. The last he made out to be fiveeach in three of the canoes, and six in the other, making twenty-oneindividuals in all. This was too great an odds to think ofresisting, in the event of the strangers turning out to be hostile;and the knowledge of this disparity in force admonished all thefugitives of the necessity of being wary and prudent.

　　The strangers landed just beneath the hut, or at the precise spotwhere Whiskey Centre was in the habit of keeping his canoe, andwhence Boden had removed it only an hour or two before. The savageshad probably selected the place on account of its shores being clearof the wild rice, and because the high ground near it promised botha lookout and comfortable lodgings. Several of the party strolledupward, as if searching for an eligible spot to light their fire,and one of them soon discovered the cabin. The warrior announced hissuccess by a whoop, and a dozen of the Indians were shortlycollected in and about the chiente. All this proved the prudence ofthe course taken by the fugitives.

　　Blossom stood beneath the tree, and the bee-hunter told her, as eachincident occurred, all that passed among the strangers, when thegirl communicated the same to her brother and his wife, who werequite near at hand in one of the canoes. As there was no danger ofbeing overheard, conversation in an ordinary tone passed between theparties, two of whom at least were now fond of holding this sort ofcommunion.

　　"Do they seem to suspect the neighborhood of the occupants of thecabin?" asked Margery, when the bee-hunter had let her know themanner in which the savages had taken possession of her latedwelling.

　　"One cannot tell. Savages are always distrustful and cautious whenon a war-path; and these seem to be scenting about like so manyhounds which are nosing for a trail. They are now gathering sticksto light a fire, which is better than burning the chiente."

　　"That they will not be likely to do until they have no further needof it. Tell me, Bourdon, do any go near the thicket of alders wherewe have hidden our goods?"

　　"Not as yet; though there is a sudden movement and many loud yellsamong them!"

　　"Heaven send that it may not be at having discovered anything wehave forgotten. The sight of even a lost dipper or cup would setthem blood-hounds on our path, as sure as we are white and they aresavages!"

　　"As I live, they scent the whiskey! There is a rush toward, and apow-wow in and about the shed--yes, of a certainty they smell theliquor! Some of it has escaped in rolling down the hill, and theirnoses are too keen to pass over a fragrance that to them equals thatof roses. Well, let them scent as they may--even an Injin does notget drunk through his nose."

　　"You are quite right, Bourdon: but is not this a most unhappy scentfor us, since the smell of whiskey can hardly be there without theirseeing it did not grow in the woods of itself, like an oak or abeech?"

　　"I understand you, Margery, and there is good sense in what you say.They will never think the liquor grew there. like a blackberry or achestnut, though the place is called Whiskey Centre!"

　　"It is hard enough to know that a family has deserved such a name,without being reminded of it by those that call themselves friends,"answered the girl pointedly, after a pause of near a minute, thoughshe spoke in sorrow rather than in anger.

　　In an instant the bee-hunter was at pretty Margery's side, makinghis peace by zealous apologies and winning protestations of respectand concern. The mortified girl was soon appeased; and, afterconsulting together for a minute, they went to the canoe tocommunicate to the husband and wife what they had seen.

　　"The whiskey after all is likely to prove our worst enemy," said thebee-hunter as he approached. "It would seem that in moving thebarrels some of the liquor has escaped, and the nose of an Injin istoo quick for the odor it leaves, not to scent it."

　　"Much good may it do them," growled Gershom--"they've lost me thatwhiskey, and let them long for it without gettin' any, as apunishment for the same. My fortun' would have been made could Ionly have got them two barrels as far as Fort Dearborn before thetroops moved!"

　　"The barrels might have been got there, certainly," answered leBourdon, so much provoked at the man's regrets for the destroyerwhich had already come so near to bringing want and ruin on himselfand family, as momentarily to forget his recent scene with prettyMargery; "but whether anything would have been in them is anotherquestion. One of those I rolled to the brow of the hill was halfempty as it was."

　　"Gershom is so troubled with the ague, if he don't take stimulant inthis new country," put in the wife, in the apologetic manner inwhich woman struggles to conceal the failings of him she loves. "Asfor the whiskey, I don't grudge that in the least; for it's a poorway of getting rich to be selling it to soldiers, who want all thereason liquor has left 'em, and more too. Still, Gershom needsbitters; and ought not to have every drop he has taken thrown intohis face."

　　By this time le Bourdon was again sensible of his mistake, and hebeat a retreat in the best manner he could, secretly resolving notto place himself any more between two fires, in consequence offurther blunders on this delicate subject. He now found that it wasa very different thing to joke Whiskey Centre himself on the subjectof his great failing, from making even the most distant allusion toit in the presence of those who felt for a husband's and a brother'sweakness, with a liveliness of feeling that brutal indulgence hadlong since destroyed in the object of their solicitude. Heaccordingly pointed out the risk there was that the Indians shouldmake the obvious inference, that human beings must have recentlybeen in the hut, to leave the fresh scent of the liquor in questionbehind them. This truth was so apparent that all felt its force,though to no one else did the danger seem so great as to the bee-hunter. He had greater familiarity with the Indian character thanany of his companions, and dreaded the sagacity of the savages in ajust proportion to his greater knowledge. He did not fail,therefore, to admonish his new friends of the necessity forvigilance.

　　"I will return to the tree and take another look at the movements ofthe savages," le Bourdon concluded by saying. "By this time theirfire must be lighted; and by the aid of my glass a better insightmay be had into their plans and feelings."

　　The bee-hunter now went back to his tree, whither he was slowlyfollowed by Margery; the girl yielding to a feverish desire toaccompany him, at the very time she was half restrained by maidenbashfulness; though anxiety and the wish to learn the worst asspeedily as possible, prevailed.

　　"They have kindled a blazing fire, and the whole of the inside ofthe house is as bright as if illuminated," said le Bourdon, who wasnow carefully bestowed among the branches of his small tree. "Thereare lots of the red devils moving about the chiente, inside and out;and they seem to have fish as well as venison to cook. Aye, theregoes more dry brush on the fire to brighten up the picture, anddaylight is almost eclipsed. As I live, they have a prisoner among'em!"

　　"A prisoner!" exclaimed Margery, in the gentle tones of female pity."Not a white person, surely?"

　　"No--he is a red-skin like all of them--but--wait a minute till Ican get the glass a little more steady. Yes--it is so--I was rightat first!"

　　"What is so, Bourdon--and in what are you right?"

　　"You may remember, Blossom, that your brother and I spoke of the twoInjins who visited me in the Openings. One was a Pottawattamie andthe other a Chippewa. The first we found dead and scalped, after hehad left us; and the last is now in yonder hut, bound and aprisoner. He has taken to the lake on his way to Fort Dearborn, andhas, with all his craft and resolution, fallen into enemies' hands.Well will it be for him if his captors do not learn what befell thewarrior who was slain near my cabin, and left seated against atree!"

　　"Do you think these savages mean to revenge the death of theirbrother on this unfortunate wretch?"

　　"I know that he is in the pay of our general at Detroit, while thePottawattamies are in the pay of the English. This of itself wouldmake them enemies, and has no doubt been the cause of his beingtaken; but I do not well see how Injins on the lake here can knowanything of what happened some fifty miles or so up in theOpenings."

　　"Perhaps the savages in the canoes belong to the same party as thewarrior you call Elksfoot, and that they have had the means oflearning his death, and by whose hand he fell."

　　The bee-hunter was surprised at the quickness of the girl's wit, thesuggestion being as discreet as it was ingenious. The manner inwhich intelligence flies through the wilderness had often surprisedhim, and certainly it was possible that the party now before himmight have heard of the fate of the chief whose body he had found inthe Openings, short as was the time for the news to have gone sofar. The circumstance that the canoes had come from the northwardwas against the inference, however, and after musing a minute on thefacts, le Bourdon mentioned this objection to his companion.

　　"Are we certain these are the same canoes as those which I saw passthis afternoon?" asked Margery, who comprehended the difficulty inan instant. "Of those I saw, two passed first, and one followed;while here are four that have landed."

　　"What you say may be true enough. We are not to suppose that thecanoes you saw pass are all that are on the lake. But let thesavages be whom they may, prudence tells us to keep clear of them ifwe can; and this more so than ever, now I can see that Pigeonswing,who I know to be an American Injin, is treated by them as an enemy."

　　"How are the savages employed now, Bourdon? Do they prepare to eat,or do they torture their prisoner?"

　　"No fear of their attempting the last to-night. There is anuneasiness about them, as if they still smelt the liquor; but someare busy cooking at the fire. I would give all my honey, prettyMargery, to be able to save Pigeonswing! He is a good fellow for asavage, and is heart and hand with us in this new war, that he tellsme has begun between us and the English!"

　　"You surely would not risk your own life to save a savage, who killsand scalps at random, as this man has done!"

　　"In that he has but followed the habits of his color and race. Idare say we do things that are quite as bad, according to Injin waysof thinking. I do believe, Margery, was that man to see me in thehands of the Pottawattamies, as I now see him, he would undertakesomething for my relief."

　　"But what can you, a single man, do when there are twenty againstyou?" asked Margery, a little reproachfully as to manner, speakinglike one who had more interest in the safety of the young bee-hunterthan she chose very openly to express.

　　"No one can say what he can do till he tries. I do not like the waythey are treating that Chippewa, for it looks as if they meant to dohim harm. He is neither fed, nor suffered to be with his masters;but there the poor fellow is, bound hand and foot near the cabindoor, and lashed to a tree. They do not even give him the relief ofsuffering him to sit down."

　　The gentle heart of Margery was touched by this account of themanner in which the captive was treated, and she inquired into otherparticulars concerning his situation, with a more marked interestthan she had previously manifested in his state. The bee-hunteranswered her questions as they were put; and the result was to placethe girl in possession of a minute detail of the true manner inwhich Pigeonswing was treated.

　　Although there was probably no intention on the part of the captorsof the Chippewa to torture him before his time, tortured he musthave been by the manner in which his limbs and body were confined.Not only were his arms fastened behind his back at the elbows, butthe hands were also tightly bound together in front. The legs hadligatures in two places, just above the knees and just below theankles. Around the body was another fastening; which secured thecaptive to a beech that stood about thirty feet from the door of thecabin, and so nearly in a line with the fire within and the lookoutof le Bourdon, as to enable the last distinctly to note theseparticulars, aided as he was by his glass. Relying on the manner inwhich they secured their prisoner, the savages took little heed ofhim; but each appeared bent on attending to his own comfort, bymeans of a good supper, and by securing a dry lair in which to passthe night. All this le Bourdon saw and noted too, ere he droppedlightly on his feet by the side of Margery, at the root of the tree.

　　Without losing time that was precious, the bee-hunter went at onceto the canoes and communicated his intention to Waring. The moon hadnow set, and the night was favorable to the purpose of le Bourdon.At the first glance it might seem wisest to wait until sleep hadfallen upon the savages, ere any attempt were made to approach thehut; but Boden reasoned differently. A general silence would succeedas soon as the savages disposed of themselves to sleep, which wouldbe much more likely to allow his footsteps to be overheard, thanwhen tongues and bodies and teeth were all in active movement. A manwho eats after a long march, or a severe paddling, usuallyconcentrates his attention on his food, as le Bourdon knew by longexperience; and it is a much better moment to steal upon the hungryand weary, to do so when they feed, than to do so when they sleep,provided anything like a watch be kept. That the Pottawattamie wouldneglect this latter caution le Bourdon did not believe; and his mindwas made up, not only to attempt the rescue of his Chippewa friend,but to attempt it at once.

　　After explaining his plan in a few words, and requesting Waring'sassistance, le Bourdon took a solemn leave of the party, andproceeded at once toward the hut. In order to understand themovements of the bee-hunter, it may be well now briefly to explainthe position of the chiente, and the nature of the ground on whichthe adventurer was required to act. The hut stood on a low andsomewhat abrupt swell, being surrounded on all sides by land so lowas to be in many places wet and swampy. There were a good many treeson the knoll, and several thickets of alders and other bushes on thelower ground; but on the whole, the swamps were nearly devoid ofwhat is termed "timber." Two sides of the knoll were abrupt; that onwhich the casks had been rolled into the lake, and that opposite,which was next to the tree where Boden had so long been watching theproceedings of the savages. The distance between the hut and thistree was somewhat less than a mile. The intervening ground was low,and most of it was marshy; though it was possible to cross the marshby following a particular course. Fortunately this course, which wasvisible to the eye by daylight, and had been taken by the fugitiveson quitting the hut, might be dimly traced at night, by one whounderstood the ground, by means of certain trees and bushes, thatformed so many finger-posts for the traveller. Unless thisparticular route were taken, however, a circuit of three or fourmiles must be made, in order to pass from the chiente to the spotwhere the family had taken refuge. As le Bourdon had crossed thisfirm ground by daylight and had observed it well from his tree, hethought himself enough of a guide to find his way through it in thedark, aided by the marks just mentioned.

　　The bee-hunter had got as far as the edge of the marsh on his waytoward the hut, when, pausing an instant to examine the priming ofhis rifle, he fancied that he heard a light footstep behind him.Turning, quick as thought, he perceived that pretty Margery hadfollowed him thus far. Although time pressed, he could not part fromthe girl without showing that he appreciated the interest shemanifested in his behalf. Taking her hand, therefore, he spoke witha simplicity and truth, that imparted to his manner a natural gracethat one bred in courts might have envied. What was more, with adelicacy that few in course would deem necessary under thecircumstances, he did not in his language so much impute to concernon his own account this movement of Margery's, as to that she feltfor her brother and sister; though in his inmost heart a throbbinghope prevailed that he had his share in it.

　　"Do not be troubled on account of Gershom and his wife, prettyMargery," said the bee-hunter, "which, as I perceive, is the mainreason why you have come here; and as for myself, be certain that Ishall not forget who I have left behind, and how much her safetydepends on my prudence."

　　Margery was pleased, though a good deal confused. It was new to herto hear allusions of this sort, but nature supplied the feeling toappreciate them.

　　"Is it not risking too much, Bourdon?" she said. "Are you sure ofbeing able to find the crossing in the marsh, in a night so verydark? I do not know but looking so long at the bright light in thecabin may blind me, but it does seem as if I never saw a darkernight!"

　　"The darkness increases, for the star-light is gone; but I can seewhere I go, and so long as I can do that there is not much fear oflosing my way. I do not like to expose you to danger, but--"

　　"Never mind me, Bourdon--set me to do anything in which you think Ican be of use!" exclaimed the girl, eagerly.

　　"Well then, Margery, you may do this: come with me to the large treein the centre of the marsh, and I will set you on a duty that maypossibly save my life. I will tell you my meaning when there."

　　Margery followed with a light, impatient step; and, as neitherstopped to speak or to look around, the two soon stood beneath thetree in question. It was a large elm that completely overshadowed aconsiderable extent of firm ground. Here a full and tolerably nearview could be had of the hut, which was still illuminated by theblazing fire within. For a minute both stood silently gazing at thestrange scene; then le Bourdon explained to his companion the mannerin which she might assist him.

　　Once at the elm, it was not so difficult to find the way across themarsh, as it was to reach that spot, coming from the chiente. Asthere were several elms scattered about in the centre of the marsh,the bee-hunter was fearful that he might not reach the right tree;in which case he would be compelled to retrace his steps, and thatat the imminent hazard of being captured. He carried habitually asmall dark lantern, and had thought of so disposing of it in thelower branches of this very elm, as to form a focus of it, buthesitated about doing that which might prove a guide to his enemiesas well as to himself. If Margery would take charge of this lantern,he could hope to reap its advantages without incurring the hazard ofhaving a light suspended in the tree for any length of time. Margeryunderstood the lessons she received, and promised to obey all theinjunctions by which they were accompanied.

　　"Now, God bless you, Margery," added the bee-hunter. "Providence hasbrought me and your brother's family together in troublesome times;should I get back safe from this adventure, I shall look upon it asa duty to do all I can to help Gershom place his wife and sisterbeyond the reach of harm."

　　"God bless you, Bourdon!" half whispered the agitated girl. "I knowit is worth some risk to save a human life, even though it be thatof an Injin, and I will not try to persuade you from thisundertaking; but do not attempt more than is necessary, and rely onmy using the lantern just as you have told me to use it."

　　Those young persons had not yet known each other a single day, yetboth felt that confidence which years alone, in the crowds of theworld, can ordinarily create in the human mind. The cause of thesympathy which draws heart to heart, which generates friendships,and love, and passionate attachments, is not obvious to all whochoose to talk of it. There is yet a profound mystery in ourorganization, which has hitherto escaped the researches of bothclasses of philosophers, and which it probably was the design of theCreator should not be made known to us until we draw nearer to thatgreat end which, sooner or later, is to be accomplished in behalf ofour race, when "knowledge will abound," and we shall betterunderstand our being and its objects, than is permitted to us inthis our day of ignorance. But while we cannot trace the causes of athousand things, we know and feel their effects. Among the othermysteries of our nature is this of sudden and strong sympathies,which, as between men for men, and women for women, awakenconfidence and friendship; and as between those of different sexes,excite passionate attachments that more or less color their futurelives. The great delineator of our common nature, in no one of themany admirable pictures he has drawn of men, manifests a moreprofound knowledge of his subject, than in that in which he portraysthe sudden and nearly ungovernable inclination which Romeo andJuliet are made to display for each other; an inclination that setsreason, habit, prejudice, and family enmities at defiance. That suchan attachment is to be commended, we do not say; that all can feelit, we do not believe; that connections formed under its influencecan always be desirable, we are far from thinking: but that it mayexist we believe is just as certain as any of the incomprehensiblelaws of our wayward and yet admirable nature. We have no Veronesetale to relate here, however, but simply a homely legend, in whichhuman feeling may occasionally be made to bear an humble resemblanceto that world-renowned picture which had its scenes in the beautifulcapital of Venetian Lombardy.

　　When le Bourdon left his companion, now so intensely interested inhis success, to pick his way in the darkness across the remainder ofthe marsh, Margery retired behind the tree, where the first thingshe did was to examine her lantern, and to see that its light wasready to perform the very important office which might so speedilybe required of it. Satisfied on this point, she turned her eyesanxiously in the direction of the hut. By this time every trace ofthe bee-hunter was lost, the hillock in his front forming too dark abackground to admit of his being seen. But the fire still blazed inthe chiente, the savages not having yet finished their cooking,though several had satisfied their appetites, and had already soughtplaces where they might stretch themselves for the night. Margerywas glad to see that these last individuals bestowed themselveswithin the influence of the fire, warm as was the night. This wasdone most probably to escape from the annoyance of the mosquitos,more or less of which are usually found in the low lands of the newcountries, and near the margins of rivers.

　　Margery could distinctly see the Chippewa, erect and bound to histree. On him she principally kept her looks riveted, for near hisperson did she expect first again to find the bee-hunter. Indeed,there was no chance of seeing one who was placed beneath the lightof the fire, since the brow of the acclivity formed a completecover, throwing all below it into deep shade. This circumstance wasof the greatest importance to the adventurer, however, enabling himto steal quite near to his friend, favored by a darkness that wasgetting to be intense. Quitting Margery, we will now rejoin leBourdon, who by this time was approaching his goal.

　　The bee-hunter had some difficulty in finding his way across themarsh; but floundering through the impediments, and on the wholepreserving the main direction, he got out on the firm ground quiteas soon as he had expected to do. It was necessary for him to useextreme caution. The Indians according to their custom had dogs, twoof which had been in sight, lying about half-way between theprisoner and the door of the hut. Boden had seen a savage feedingthese dogs; and it appeared to him at the time as if the Indian hadbeen telling them to be watchful of the Chippewa. He well knew theservices that the red men expected of these animals, which are keptrather as sentinels than for any great use they put them to in thehunts. An Indian dog is quick enough to give the alarm, and he willkeep on a trail for a long run and with considerable accuracy, butit is seldom that he closes and has his share in the death, unlessin the case of very timid and powerless creatures.

　　Nevertheless, the presence of these dogs exacted extra caution inthe movements of the bee-hunter. He had ascended the hill a littleout of the stream of light which still issued from the open door ofthe hut, and was soon high enough to get a good look at the state ofthings on the bit of level land around the cabin. Fully one-half ofthe savages were yet up and in motion; though the processes ofcooking and eating were by this time nearly ended. These men hadsenses almost as acute as those of their dogs, and it was verynecessary to be on his guard against them also. By moving with theutmost caution, le Bourdon reached the edge of the line of light,where he was within ten yards of the captive. Here he placed hisrifle against a small tree, and drew his knife, in readiness to cutthe prisoner's thongs. Three several times, while the bee-hunter wasmaking these preparations, did the two dogs raise their heads andscent the air; once, the oldest of the two gave a deep and mostominous growl. Singular as it may seem, this last indication ofgiving the alarm was of great service to le Bourdon and theChippewa. The latter heard the growl, and saw two of the movementsof the animals' heads, from all which he inferred that there wassome creature, or some danger behind him. This naturally enoughinduced him to bestow a keen attention in that direction, and beingunable to turn body, limbs, or head, the sense of hearing was hisonly means of watchfulness. It was while in this state of profoundlistening that Pigeonswing fancied he heard his own name, in such awhisper as one raises when he wishes to call from a short distancewith the least possible expenditure of voice. Presently the words"Pigeonswing," and "Chippewa," were succeeded by those of "bee-hunter," "Bourdon." This was enough: the quick-witted warrior made alow ejaculation, such as might be mistaken for a half-suppressedmurmur that proceeded from pain, but which one keenly on the watch,and who was striving to communicate with him, would be apt tounderstand as a sign of attention. The whispering then ceasedaltogether, and the prisoner waited the result with the stoicpatience of an American Indian. A minute later the Chippewa felt thethongs giving way, and his arms were released at the elbows. An armwas next passed round his body, and the fastenings at the wrist werecut. At this instant a voice whispered in his ear--" Be of goodheart, Chippewa--your friend, Bourdon, is here. Can you stand?"

　　"No stand," answered the Indian in a low whisper--"too much tie."

　　At the next moment the feet of the Chippewa were released, as werealso his knees. Of all the fastenings none now remained but thatwhich bound the captive to the tree. In not cutting this, the bee-hunter manifested his coolness and judgment; for were the stout ropeof bark severed, the Indian would have fallen like a log, from totalinability to stand. His thongs had impeded the circulation of theblood, and the usual temporary paralysis had been the consequence.Pigeonswing understood the reason of his friend's forbearance, andmanaged to rub his hands and wrists together, while the bee-hunterhimself applied friction to his feet, by passing his own arms aroundthe bottom of the tree. The reader may imagine the intense anxietyof Margery the while; for she witnessed the arrival of le Bourdon atthe tree, and could not account for the long delay which succeeded.

　　All this time, the dogs were far from being quiet or satisfied.Their masters, accustomed to being surrounded at night by wolves andfoxes, or other beasts, took little heed, however, of the discontentof these creatures, which were in the habit of growling in theirlairs. The bee-hunter, as he kept rubbing at his friend's legs, feltnow but little apprehension of the dogs, though a new source ofalarm presented itself by the time the Chippewa was barely able tosustain his weight on his feet, and long before he could use themwith anything like his former agility. The manner in which thesavages came together in the hut, and the gestures made by theirchief, announced pretty plainly that a watch was about to be set forthe night. As it was probable that the sentinel would take hisstation near the prisoner, the bee-hunter was at a loss to decidewhether it were better to commence the flight before or after therest of the savages were in their lairs. Placing his mouth as closeto the ear of Pigeonswing as could be done without bringing his headinto the light, the following dialogue passed between le Bourdon andthe captive.

　　"Do you see, Chippewa," the bee-hunter commenced, "the chief istelling one of the young men to come and keep guard near you?"

　　"See him, well 'nough. Make too many sign, no to see."

　　"What think you--shall we wait till the warriors are asleep, or tryto be off before the sentinel comes?"

　　"Bess wait, if one t'ing. You got rifle--got tomahawk--got knife,eh?"

　　"I have them all, though my rifle is a short distance behind me, anda little down the hill."

　　"Dat bad--nebber let go rifle on war-path. Well, you tomahawk him--I scalp him--dat'll do."

　　"I shall kill no man, Chippewa, unless there is great occasion forit. If there is no other mode of getting you off, I shall choose tocut this last thong, and leave you to take care of yourself."

　　"Give him tomahawk, den--give him knife, too."

　　"Not for such a purpose. I do not like to shed blood without a goodreason for it."

　　"No call war good reason, eh? Bess reason in world Pottawattamie digup hatchet ag'in' Great Fadder at Wash'ton--dat no good reason whytake his scalp, eh?"

　　In whispering these last words the Chippewa used so much energy,that the dogs again raised their heads from between their forepawsand growled. Almost at that instant the chief and his few remainingwakeful companions laid themselves down to sleep, and the youngwarrior designated as the sentinel left the hut and came slowlytoward the prisoner. The circumstances admitted of no delay; leBourdon pressed the keen edge of his knife across the withe thatbound the Indian to the tree; first giving him notice, in order thathe might be prepared to sustain his own weight. This done, the bee-hunter dropped on the ground, crawling away out of the light; thoughthe brow of the hill almost immediately formed a screen to concealhis person from all near the hut. In another instant he had regainedhis rifle, and was descending swiftly toward the crossing at themarsh.