Chapter XV.

by James Fenimore Cooper

　　None knows his lineage, age, or name; His looks are like the snows of Caucasus; his eyes Beam with the wisdom of collected ages In green, unbroken years he sees, 'tis said, The generations pass like autumn fruits, Garner'd, consumed, and springing fresh to life, Again to perish-- --HILLHOUSENo further disturbance took place that night, and the men set aboutfilling up the trenches in the morning steadily, as if nothing hadhappened. They talked a little of the extraordinary occurrence, butmore was thought than said. Le Bourdon observed, however, thatPigeonswing went earlier than usual to the hunt, and that he madehis preparations as if he expected to be absent more than thecustomary time.

　　As there were just one hundred feet of ditch to fill with dirt, thetask was completed, and that quite thoroughly, long ere the close ofthe day. The pounding down of the earth consumed more time, and wasmuch more laborious than the mere tumbling of the earth back intoits former bed; but even this portion of the work was sufficientlyattended to. When all was done, the corporal himself, a verycritical sort of person in what he called "garrisons," was fain toallow that it was as "pretty a piece of palisading" as he had everlaid eyes on. The "garrison" wanted only one thing, now, to renderit a formidable post--and that was water--no spring or well existingwithin its narrow limit; however, he procured two or three emptybarrels, portions of le Bourdon's effects, placed them within theworks, and had them filled with sweet water. By emptying this watertwo or three times a week, and refilling the barrels, it was thoughtthat a sufficient provision of that great necessary would be madeand kept up. Luckily the corporal's "garrison" did not drink, andthe want was so much the more easily supplied for the moment.

　　In truth, the chiente was now converted into a place of somestrength, when it is considered that artillery had never yetpenetrated to those wilds. More than half the savages of the westfought with arrows and spears in that day, as most still do when thegreat prairies are reached. A rifleman so posted as to have his bodyin a great measure covered by the trunk of a burr-oak tree, would bereasonably secure against the missives of an Indian, and, using hisown fatal instrument of death, under a sense of personal security,he would become a formidable opponent to dislodge. Nor was thesmallness of the work any objection to its security. A single well-armed man might suffice to defend twenty-five feet of palisades,when he would have been insufficient to make good his position withtwice the extent. Then le Bourdon had cut loops on three sides ofthe hut itself, in order to fire at the bears, and sometimes at thedeer, which had often approached the building in its days ofsolitude and quiet, using the window on the fourth side for the samepurpose. In a word, a sense of increased security was felt by thewhole party when this work was completed, though one arrangement wasstill wanting to render it perfect. By separating the real garrisonfrom the nominal garrison during the night, there always existed thedanger of surprise; and the corporal, now that his fortificationswere finished, soon devised a plan to obviate this last-nameddifficulty. His expedient was very simple, and had somewhat ofbarrack-life about it.

　　Corporal Flint raised a low platform along one side of the chiente,by placing there logs of pine that were squared on one of theirsides. Above, at the height of a man's head, a roof of bark wasreared on poles, and prairie grass, aided by skins, formed verycomfortable barrack-beds beneath. As the men were expected to liewith their heads to the wall of the hut, and their feet outward,there was ample space for twice their number. Thither, then, wereall the homely provisions for the night transported; and whenMargery closed the door of the chiente, after returning the bee-hunter's cordial good night, it was with no further apprehension forthe winding of the mysterious horn.

　　The first night that succeeded the new arrangement passed withoutany disturbance. Pigeonswing did not return, as usual, at sunset,and a little uneasiness was felt on his account; but, as he made hisappearance quite early in the morning, this source of concernceased. Nor did the Chippewa come in empty-handed; he had killed notonly a buck, but he had knocked over a bear in his rambles, besidestaking a mess of famously fine trout from a brawling stream at nogreat distance. The fish were eaten for breakfast, and immediatelyafter that meal was ended, a party.

　　"I know no more than he has himself told me. By his account there isto be a great council of red men on the prairie, a few miles fromthis spot; he is waiting for the appointed day to come, in order togo and make one of the chiefs that will be there. Is not this true,Chippewa?"

　　"Yes, dat true--what dat council smoke round fire for, eh? Youknow?"

　　"No, I do not, and would be right glad to have you tell me,Pigeonswing. Perhaps the tribe mean to have a meetin' to determinein their own minds which side they ought to take in this war."

　　"Not dat nudder. Know well 'nough which side take. Got message andwampum from Canada fadder, and most all Injin up this-a way look forYankee scalp. Not dat nudder."

　　"Then I have no notion what is at the bottom of this council. Peterseems to expect great things from it; that I can see by his way oftalking and looking whenever he speaks of it."

　　"Peter want to see him very much. Smoke at great many sich councilfire."

　　"Do you intend to be present at this council on Prairie Round?"asked the bee-hunter, innocently enough. Pigeonswing turned to lookat his companion, in a way that seemed to inquire how far he wasreally the dupe of the mysterious Indian's wiles. Then, suddenlyaware of the importance of not betraying all he himself knew, untilthe proper moment had arrived, he bent his eyes forward again,continuing onward and answering somewhat evasively.

　　"Don't know," he replied. "Hunter nebber tell. Chief want venison,and he must hunt. Just like squaw in pale-face wigwam--work, work--sweep, sweep--cook, cook--never know when work done. So hunter hunt--hunt--hunt."

　　"And for that matter, Chippewa, just like squaw in the red man'svillage, too. Hoe, hoe--dig, dig--carry, carry--so that she neverknows when she may sit down to rest."

　　"Yes," returned Pigeonswing, coolly nodding his assent as he movedsteadily forward. "Dat do right way wid squaw--juss what he goodfor--juss what he made for--work for warrior and cook his dinner.Pale-face make too much of squaw."

　　"Not accordin' to your account of their manner of getting along,Injin. If the work of our squaws is never done, we can hardly maketoo much of them. Where does Peter keep his squaw?"

　　"Don't know," answered the Chippewa. "Nobody know. Don't know wherehis tribe even."

　　"This is very extraor'nary, considering the influence the man seemsto enjoy. How is it that he has so completely got the ears of allthe red men, far and near?"

　　To this question Pigeonswing gave no answer. His own mind was so farunder Peter's control that he did not choose to tell more than mightbe prudent. He was fully aware of the mysterious chief's principaldesign, that of destroying the white race altogether, and ofrestoring the red men to their ancient rights, but several reasonsprevented his entering into the plot heart and hand. In the firstplace, he was friendly to the "Yankees," from whom he, personally,had received many favors and no wrongs; then, the tribe, or half-tribe, to which he belonged had been employed, more or less, by theagents of the American government as runners, and in othercapacities, ever since the peace of '83; and, lastly, he himself hadbeen left much in different garrisons, where he had not onlyacquired his English, but a habit of thinking of the Americans ashis friends. It might also be added that Pigeonswing, though farless gifted by nature than the mysterious Peter, had formed a truerestimate of the power of the "Yankees," and did not believe theywere to be annihilated so easily. How it happened that this Indianhad come to a conclusion so much safer than that of Peter's, a manof twice his capacity, is more than we can explain; though it wasprobably owing to the accidental circumstances of his more intimateassociations with the whites.

　　The bee-hunter was by nature a man of observation, a faculty thathis habits had both increased and stimulated. Had it not been forthe manner in which he was submitting to the influence of Margery,he would long before have seen that in the deportment of theChippewa which would have awakened his distrust; not that Margery inany way endeavored to blind him to what was passing before his face,but that he was fast getting to have eyes only for her. By this timeshe filled not only his waking, but many of his sleeping thoughts;and when she was not actually before him, charming him with herbeauty, enlivening him with her artless gayety, and inspiring himwith her innocent humor, he fancied she was there, imagination,perhaps, heightening all those advantages which we have enumerated.When a man is thoroughly in love, he is quite apt to be fit for verylittle else but to urge his suit. Such, in a certain way, proved tobe the case with le Bourdon, who allowed things to pass unheededdirectly before his eyes that previously to his acquaintance withMargery would not only have been observed, but which would have mostprobably led to some practical results. The conduct of Pigeonswingwas among the circumstances that were thus over-looked by our hero.In point of fact, Peter was slowly but surely working on the mind ofthe Chippewa, changing all his opinions radically, and teaching himto regard every pale-face as an enemy. The task, in this instance,was not easy; for Pigeonswing, in addition to his generalpropensities in favor of the "Yankees," the result of mere accident,had conceived a real personal regard for le Bourdon, and was veryslow to admit any views that tended to his injury. The struggle inthe mind of the young warrior was severe; and twenty times was he onthe point of warning his friend of the danger which impended overthe whole party, when a sense of good faith toward Peter, who heldhis word to the contrary, prevented his so doing. This conflict offeeling was now constantly active in the breast of the young savage.

　　Pigeonswing had another source of uneasiness, to which hiscompanions were entirely strangers. While hunting, his keen eyes haddetected the presence of warriors in the openings. It is true he hadnot seen even one, but he knew that the signs he had discoveredcould not deceive him. Not only were warriors at hand, but warriorsin considerable numbers. He had found one deserted lair, from whichits late occupants could not have departed many hours when it cameunder his own notice. By means of that attentive sagacity whichforms no small portion of the education of an American Indian,Pigeonswing was enabled to ascertain that this party, of itself,numbered seventeen, all of whom were men and warriors. The firstfact was easily enough to be seen, perhaps, there being justseventeen different impressions left in the grass; but that allthese persons were armed men, was learned by Pigeonswing throughevidence that would have been overlooked by most persons. By thelength of the lairs he was satisfied none but men of full staturehad been there; and he even examined sufficiently close to make outthe proofs that all but four of these men carried firearms. Strangeas it may seem to those who do not know how keen the senses becomewhen whetted by the apprehensions and wants of savage life,Pigeonswing was enabled to discover signs which showed that theexcepted were provided with bows and arrows, and spears.

　　When the bee-hunter and his companion came in sight of the carcaseof the bear, which they did shortly after the last remark which wehave given in the dialogue recorded, the former exclaimed with alittle surprise:

　　"How's this, Chippewa! You have killed this beast with your bow! Didyou not hunt with the rifle yesterday?"

　　"Bad fire rifle off now-a-day," answered Pigeonswing, sententiously."Make noise--noise no good."

　　"Noise!" repeated the perfectly unsuspecting bee-hunter. "Littlegood or little harm can noise do in these openings, where there isneither mountain to give back an echo, or ear to be startled. Thecrack of my rifle has rung through these groves a hundred times andno harm come of it."

　　"Forget war-time now. Bess nebber fire, less can't help him.Pottawattamie hear great way off."

　　"Oh! That's it, is it! You're afraid our old friends thePottawattamies may find us out, and come to thank us for all thathappened down at the river's mouth. Well," continued le Bourdon,laughing, "if they wish another whiskey-spring, I have a small jugleft, safely hid against a wet day; a very few drops will answer tomake a tolerable spring. You redskins don't know everything,Pigeonswing, though you are so keen and quick-witted on a trail."

　　"Bess not tell Pottawattamie any more 'bout springs," answered theChippewa, gravely; for by this time he regarded the state of thingsin the openings to be so serious as to feel little disposition tomirth. "Why you don't go home, eh? Why don't med'cine-man go home,too? Bess for pale-face to be wid pale-face when red man go on war-path. Color bess keep wid color."

　　"I see you want to be rid of us, Pigeonswing; but the parson has nothought of quitting this part of the world until he has convincedall the red-skins that they are Jews."

　　"What he mean, eh?" demanded the Chippewa, with more curiosity thanit was usual for an Indian warrior to betray. "What sort of a manJew, eh? Why call red man Jew?"

　　"I know very little more about it than you do yourself, Pigeonswing;but such as my poor knowledge is, you're welcome to it. You've heardof the Bible, I dare say?"

　　"Sartain--med'cine-man read him Sunday. Good book to read, somet'ink."

　　"Yes, it's all that, and a great companion have I found my Bible,when I've been alone with the bees out here in the openings. Ittells us of our God, Chippewa; and teaches us how we are to pleasehim, and how we may offend. It's a great loss to you red-skins notto have such a book among you."

　　"Med'cine-man bring him--don't do much good, yet; some day, p'r'aps,do better. How dat make red man Jew?"

　　"Why, this is a new idea to me, though Parson Amen seems fullypossessed with it. I suppose you know what a Jew is?"

　　"Don't know anything 'bout him. Sort o' nigger, eh?"

　　"No, no, Pigeonswing, you're wide of the mark this time. But, thatwe may understand each other, we'll begin at the beginning like,which will let you into the whole history of the pale-face religion.As we've had a smart walk, however, and here is the bear's meat safeand sound, just as you left it, let us sit down a bit on this trunkof a tree, while I give you our tradition from beginning to end, asit might be. In the first place, Chippewa, the earth was madewithout creatures of any sort to live on it--not so much as asquirrel or a woodchuck."

　　"Poor country to hunt in, dat," observed the Chippewa quietly, whilele Bourdon was wiping his forehead after removing his cap. "Ojebwaysstay in it very little time."

　　"This, according to our belief, was before any Ojebway lived. Atlength, God made a man, out of clay, and fashioned him, as we seemen fashioned and living all around us."

　　"Yes," answered the Chippewa, nodding his head in assent. "DenManitou put plenty blood in him--dat make red warrior. Bible goodbook, if tell dat tradition."

　　"The Bible says nothing about any colors; but we suppose the manfirst made to have been a pale-face. At any rate, the pale-faceshave got possession of the best parts of the earth, as it might be,and I think they mean to keep them. First come, first served, youknow. The pale-faces are many, and are strong."

　　"Stop!" exclaimed Pigeonswing, in a way that was very unusual for anIndian to interrupt another when speaking; "want to ask question--how many pale-face you t'ink is dere? Ebber count him?"

　　"Count him!--Why, Chippewa, you might as well count the bees, asthey buzz around a fallen tree. You saw me cut down the tree I lastdiscovered, and saw the movement of the little animals, and mayjudge what success tongue or eye would have in counting them; now,just as true would it be to suppose that any man could count thepale-faces on this earth."

　　"Don't want count all," answered Pigeonswing. "Want to know how manydis side of great salt lake."

　　"That's another matter, and more easily come at. I understand younow, Chippewa; you wish to know how many of us there are in thecountry we call America?"

　　"Juss so," returned Pigeonswing, nodding in assent. "Dat juss it--juss what Injin want to know."

　　"Well, we do have a count of our own people, from time to time, andI suppose come about as near to the truth as men can come in such amatter. There must be about eight millions of us altogether; thatis, old and young, big and little, male and female."

　　"How many warrior you got?--don't want hear about squaw andpappoose."

　　"No, I see you're warlike this morning, and want to see how we arelikely to come out of this struggle with your great Canada father.Counting all round, I think we might muster hard on upon a millionof fighting men--good, bad, and indifferent; that is to say, theremust be a million of us of proper age to go into the wars."

　　Pigeonswing made no answer for near a minute. Both he and the bee-hunter had come to a halt alongside of the bear's meat, and thelatter was beginning to prepare his own portion of the load fortransportation, while his companion stood thus motionless, lost inthought. Suddenly, Pigeonswing recovered his recollection, andresumed the conversation, by saying:

　　"What million mean, Bourdon? How many time so'ger at Detroit, andso'ger on lakes?"

　　"A million is more than the leaves on all the trees in theseopenings"--le Bourdon's notions were a little exaggerated, perhaps,but this was what he said--"yes, more than the leaves on all theseoaks, far and near. A million is a countless number, and I supposewould make a row of men as long as from this spot to the shores ofthe great salt lake, if not farther."

　　It is probable that the bee-hunter himself had no very clear notionof the distance of which he spoke, or of the number of men it wouldactually require to fill the space he mentioned; but his answersufficed deeply to impress the imagination of the Indian, who nowhelped le Bourdon to secure his load to his back, in silence,receiving the same service in return. When the meat of the bear wassecurely bestowed, each resumed his rifle, and the friends commencedtheir march in, toward the chiente; conversing, as they went, on thematter which still occupied their minds. When the bee-hunter againtook up the history of the creation, it was to speak of our commonmother.

　　"You will remember, Chippewa," he said, "that I told you nothing onthe subject of any woman. What I have told you, as yet, consarnedonly the first man, who was made out of clay, into whom God breathedthe breath of life."

　　"Dat good--make warrior fuss. Juss right. When breat' in him, fit totake scalp, eh?"

　　"Why, as to that, it is not easy to see whom he was to scalp, seeingthat he was quite alone in the world, until it pleased his Creatorto give him a woman for a companion."

　　"Tell 'bout dat," returned Pigeonswing, with interest--"tell how hegot squaw."

　　"Accordin' to the Bible, God caused this man to fall into a deepsleep, when he took one of his ribs, and out of that he made a squawfor him. Then he put them both to live together, in a most beautifulgarden, in which all things excellent and pleasant was to be found--some such place as these openings, I reckon."

　　"Any bee dere?" asked the Indian, quite innocently. "Plenty honey,eh?"

　　"That will I answer for! It could hardly be otherwise, when it wasthe intention to make the first man and first woman perfectly happy.I dare say, Chippewa, if the truth was known, it would be found thatbees was a sipping at every flower in that most delightful garden!"

　　"Why pale-face quit dat garden, eh? Why come here to drive poorInjin 'way from game? Tell me dat, Bourdon, if he can? Why pale-faceever leave dat garden, when he so han'some, eh?"

　　"God turned him out of it, Chippewa--yes, he was turned out of it,with shame on his face, for having disobeyed the commandments of hisCreator. Having left the garden, his children have scattered overthe face of the earth."

　　"So come here to drive off Injin! Well, dat 'e way wid pale-face IDid ever hear of red man comin' to drive off pale-face?"

　　"I have heard of your red warriors often coming to take our scalps,Chippewa. More or less of this has been done every year, since ourpeople have landed in America. More than that they have not done,for we are too many to be driven very far in, by a few scatteringtribes of Injins."

　　"T'ink, den, more pale-face dan Injin, eh?" asked the Chippewa, withan interest so manifest that he actually stopped in his semi-trot,in order to put the question. "More pale-face warrior dan red men?"

　　"More! Aye, a thousand times more, Chippewa. Where you could showone warrior, we could show a thousand!"

　　Now, this was not strictly true, perhaps, but it answered thepurpose of deeply impressing the Chippewa with the uselessness ofPeter's plans, and sustained as it was by his early predilections,it served to keep him on the right side, in the crisis which wasapproaching. The discourse continued, much in the same strain, untilthe men got in with their bear's meat, having been preceded sometime by the others, with the venison.

　　It is a little singular that neither the questions, nor the mannerof Pigeonswing, awakened any distrust in the bee-hunter. So far fromthis, the latter regarded all that had passed as perfectly natural,and as likely to arise in conversation, in the way of purespeculation, as in any other manner. Pigeonswing intended to beguarded in what he said and did, for, as yet, he had not made up hismind which side he would really espouse, in the event of the greatproject coming to a head. He had the desire, natural to a red man,to avenge the wrongs committed against his race; but this desireexisted in a form a good deal mitigated by his intercourse with the"Yankees," and his regard for individuals. It had, nevertheless,strangely occurred to the savage reasoning of this young warriorthat possibly some arrangement might be effected, by means of whichhe should take scalps from the Canadians, while Peter and his otherfollowers were working their will on the Americans. In this confusedcondition was the mind of the Chippewa, when he and his companionthrew down their loads, near the place where the provision of gamewas usually kept. This was beneath the tree, near the spring and thecook-house, in order that no inconvenience should arise from itsproximity to the place where the party dwelt and slept. For a siege,should there be occasion to shut themselves up within the"garrison," the men depended on the pickled pork, and a quantity ofdried meat; of the latter of which the missionary had brought aconsiderable supply in his own canoe. Among these stores were a fewdozen of buffaloes' or bisons' tongues, a delicacy that would honorthe best table in the civilized world, though then so common amongthe western hunters, as scarce to be deemed food as good as thecommon salted pork and beef of the settlements.

　　The evening that followed proved to be one of singular softness andsweetness. The sun went down in a cloudless sky, and gentle airsfrom the southwest fanned the warm cheeks of Margery, as she sat,resting from the labors of the day, with le Bourdon at her side,speaking of the pleasures of a residence in such a spot. The youthwas eloquent, for he felt all that he said, and the maiden waspleased. The young man could expatiate on bees in a way to arrestany one's attention; and Margery delighted to hear him relate hisadventures with these little creatures; his successes, losses, andjourneys.

　　"But are you not often lonely, Bourdon, living here in the openings,whole summers at a time, without a living soul to speak to?"demanded Margery, coloring to the eyes, the instant the question wasasked, lest it should subject her to an imputation against which hermodesty revolted, that of wishing to draw the discourse to adiscussion on the means of preventing this solitude in future.

　　"I have not been, hitherto," answered le Bourdon, so frankly as atonce to quiet his companion's sensitiveness, "though I will notanswer for the future. Now that I have so many with me, we may makesome of them necessary. Mind--I say some, not all of my presentguests. If I could have my pick, pretty Margery, the present companywould give me all I can desire, and more too. I should not think ofgoing to Detroit for that companion, since she is to be found somuch nearer."

　　Margery blushed, and looked down--then she raised her eyes, smiled,and seemed grateful as well as pleased. By this time she had becomeaccustomed to such remarks, and she had no difficulty in discoveringher lover's wishes, though he had never been more explicit. Thereflections natural to her situation threw a shade of gentleseriousness over her countenance, rendering her more charming thanever, and causing the youth to plunge deeper and deeper into themeshes that female influence had cast around him, In all this,however, one of the parties was governed by a manly sincerity, andthe other by girlish artlessness. Diffidence, one of the mostcertain attendants of a pure passion, alone kept le Bourdon fromasking Margery to become his wife; while Margery herself sometimesdoubted whether it were possible that any reputable man could wishto connect himself and his fortunes with a family that had sunk aslow as persons could well sink, in this country, and not lose theircharacters altogether. With these doubts and distrusts, so naturallyaffecting the mind of each, these young people were rapidly becomingmore and more enamored; the bee-hunter betraying his passion in theclose, absorbed attentions that more properly belong to his sex,while that of Margery was to be seen in sudden blushes, thethoughtful brow, the timid glance, and a cast of tenderness thatcame over her whole manner, and, as it might be, her whole being.

　　While our young folk were thus employed, now conversing cheerfully,now appearing abstracted and lost in thought, though seated side byside, le Bourdon happened to look behind him, and saw that Peter wasregarding them with one of those intense, but mysterious expressionsof the countenance, that had, now, more than once attracted hisattention; giving reason, each time, for a feeling in which doubt,curiosity, and apprehension were singularly mingled, even inhimself.

　　At the customary hour, which was always early, in that party ofsimple habits, the whole family sought its rest; the femaleswithdrew within the chiente, while the males arranged their skinswithout. Ever since the erection of the palisades, le Bourdon hadbeen in the habit of calling Hive within the defences, leaving himat liberty to roam about inside, at pleasure. Previously to this newarrangement, the dog had been shut up in his kennel, in order toprevent his getting on the track of a deer, or in close combat withsome bear, when his master was not present to profit by his efforts.As the palisades were too high for his leap, this putting him atliberty within them answered the double purpose of giving themastiff room for healthful exercise, and of possessing a mostvigilant sentinel against dangers of all sorts. On the presentoccasion, however, the dog was missing, and after calling andwhistling for him some time, the bee-hunter was fain to bar thegate, and leave him on the outside. This done, he sought his skin,and was soon asleep.

　　It was midnight, when the bee-hunter felt a hand laid on his ownarm. It was the corporal, making this movement, in order to awakehim. In an instant the young man was on his feet, with his rifle inhis hand.

　　"Did you not hear it, Bourdon?" demanded the corporal, in a tone solow as scarce to exceed a whisper.

　　"Hear what! I've been sleeping, sound as a bee in winter."

　　"The horn!--The horn has been blown twice, and, I think, we shallsoon hear it again."

　　"The horn was hanging at the door of the chiente, and the conch,too. It will be easy to see if they are in their places."

　　It was only necessary to walk around the walls of the hut, to itsopposite side, in order to ascertain this fact. Le Bourdon did so,accompanied by the corporal, and just as each laid a hand on theinstruments, which were suspended in their proper places, a heavyrush was made against the gate, as if to try its fastenings. Thesepushes were repeated several times, with a violence that menaced thebars. Of course, the two men stepped to the spot, a distance of onlya few paces, the gateway of the palisades and the door of thechiente being contiguous to each other, and immediately ascertainedthat it was the mastiff, endeavoring to force his way in. The bee-hunter admitted the dog, which had been trained to suppress hisbark, though this animal was too brave and large to throw away hisbreath when he had better rely on his force. Powerful animals, ofthis race, are seldom noisy, it being the province of the cur, bothamong dogs and men, to be blustering and spitting out their venom,at all hours and seasons. Hive, however, in addition to his naturaldisposition, had been taught, from the time he was a pup, not tobetray his presence unnecessarily by a bark; and it was seldom thathis deep throat opened beneath the arches of the oaks. When it did,it told like the roaring of the lion in the desert.

　　Hive was no sooner admitted to the "garrison," than he manifestedjust as strong a desire to get out, as a moment before he hadmanifested to get in. This, le Bourdon well knew, indicated thepresence of some thing, or creature, that did not properly belong tothe vicinity. After consulting with the corporal, Pigeonswing wascalled; and leaving him as a sentinel at the gate, the two othersmade a sortie. The corporal was as brave as a lion, and loved allsuch movements, though he fully anticipated encountering savages,while his companion expected an interview with bears.

　　As this movement was made at the invitation of the dog, it wasjudiciously determined to let him act as pioneer, on the advance.Previously to quitting the defences, however, the two adventurerslooked closely to their arms. Each examined the priming, saw thathis horn and pouch were accessible, and loosened his knife in itssheath. The corporal, moreover, fixed his "baggonet," as he calledthe formidable, glittering instrument that usually embellished theend of his musket--a musket being the weapon he chose to carry,while the bee-hunter himself was armed with a long western rifle.