Chapter XVIII.

by James Fenimore Cooper

　　Nearer the mount stood Moses; in his hand The rod which blasted with strange plagues the realm Of Misraim, and from its time-worn channels Upturned the Arabian sea. Fair was his broad High front, and forth from his soul-piercing eye Did legislation look; which full he fixed Upon the blazing panoply undazzled. --HILLHOUSE.It often happens in the recesses of the wilderness, that, in theabsence of men, the animals hunt each other. The wolves, inparticular, following their instincts, are often seen in packs,pressing upon the heels of the antelope, deer, and other creaturesof that family, which depend for safety more on their speed than ontheir horns. On the present occasion, a fine buck, with a pack offifty wolves close after it, came bounding through the narrow gorgethat contained the rill, and entered the amphitheatre of the bottom-land. Its headlong career was first checked by the sight of thefire; then arose a dark circle of men, each armed and accustomed tothe chase. In much less time than it has taken to record the fact,that little piece of bottom-land was crowded with wolves, deer, andmen. The headlong impetuosity of the chase and flight had preventedthe scent from acting, and all were huddled together, for a singleinstant, in a sort of inextricable confusion. Brief as was thismelee, it sufficed to allow of a young hunter's driving his arrowthrough the heart of the buck, and enabled others among the Indiansto kill several of the wolves; some with arrows, others with knives,etc. No rifle was used, probably from a wish not to give an alarm.

　　The wolves were quite as much astonished at this unexpectedrencontre, as the Indians. They were not a set of hungry andformidable beasts, that famine might urge to any pass ofdesperation; but a pack hunting, like gentlemen, for their ownamusement. Their headlong speed was checked less by the crowd ofmen, than by the sight of fire. In their impetuosity, it is probablethat they would have gone clean through five hundred men, but nowild beast will willingly encounter fire. Three or four of thechiefs, aware of this dread, seized brands, and throwing themselves,without care, into the midst of the pack, the animals went howlingoff, scattering in all directions. Unfortunately for its ownwelfare, one went directly through the circle, plunged into thethicket beyond, and made its way quite up to the fallen tree, onwhich the bee-hunter and the corporal had taken their stations. Thiswas altogether too much for the training, or for the philosophy ofHive. Perceiving a recognized enemy rushing toward him. that noblemastiff met him in a small cleared spot, open-mouthed, and for a fewmoments a fierce combat was the consequence. Dogs and wolves do notfight in silence, and loud were the growls and yells on thisoccasion. In vain did le Bourdon endeavor to drag his mastiff off;the animal was on the high-road to victory, when it is ever hard toarrest the steps of the combatant. Almost as a matter of course,some of the chiefs rushed toward the spot, when the presence of thetwo spectators first became known to them. At the next moment thewolf lay dead at the feet of Hive; and the parties stood gazing ateach other, equally taken by surprise, and equally at a loss to knowwhat to do next.

　　It was perhaps fortunate for the bee-hunter, that neitherCrowsfeather, nor any other of the Pottawattamies, was present atthis first rencontre, or he might have fallen on the spot, a victimto their disappointed hopes of drinking at a whiskey-spring. Thechiefs present were strangers to le Bourdon, and they stared at him,in a way to show that his person was equally unknown to them. But itwas necessary, now, to follow the Indians back to their circle,where the whole party soon collected again, the wolves having goneoff on their several routes, to put up some other animal, and runhim to death.

　　During the whole of that excited and tumultuous scene, which wouldprobably now be termed a "stampede" in the Mexican-Americo-Englishof the day, Peter had not stirred. Familiar with such occurrences,he felt the importance of manifesting an unmoved calm, as a qualitymost likely to impress the minds of his companions with a profoundsense of his dignity and self-command. While all around him was in atumult, he stood in his tracks, motionless as a statue. Even thefortitude of the worthy missionary was shaken by the wild tempestthat momentarily prevailed; and the good man forgot the Jews in hisalarm at wolves, forgot the mighty past in his apprehensions for theuncomfortable and ill-boding present time. All this, however, wassoon over, and order, and quiet, and a dignified calm once morereigned in the circle. Fagots were thrown on the fire; and the twocaptives, or spectators, stood as near it, the observed of allobservers, as the heat rendered comfortable. It was just then thatCrowsfeather and his companions first recognized the magician of thewhiskey-spring.

　　Peter saw the discovery of the two spectators with some uneasiness.The time had not come when he intended to strike his blow; and hehad seen signs among those Pottawattamies, when at the mouth of theriver, which had told him how little they were disposed to look withfavor on one who had so grievously trifled with their hopes. Hisfirst care, therefore, was to interpose his authority and influencebetween le Bourdon and any project of revenge, which Crowsfeather'syoung men might be apt to devise, as soon as they, too, laid eyes onthe offender. This was done in a characteristic and wily manner.

　　"Does my brother love honey?" asked the tribeless chief of theleader of the Pottawattamies present, who sat near him, gazing on leBourdon much as the cat looks upon the mouse, ere it makes it itsprey. "Some Injins are fond of that sweet food: if my brother is oneof that sort, I can tell him how to fill his wigwam with honey withlittle trouble."

　　At this suggestion, coming from such a source, Crowsfeather couldnot do less than express his thanks, and his readiness to hear whatfurther might be in reserve for him. Peter then alluded to leBourdon's art, describing him as being the most skilful bee-hunterof the West. So great was his art in that way, that no Indian hadever yet seen his equal. It was Peter's intention to make himexercise his craft soon, for the benefit of the chiefs and warriorspresent, who might then return to their village, carrying with themstores of honey to gladden the hearts of their squaws and pappooses.This artifice succeeded; for the Indians are not expert in takingthis article of food, which so much abounds in the forests, both onaccount of the difficulty they find in felling the trees, and onaccount of the "angle-ing" part of the process, which much exceedstheir skill in mathematics. On the other hand, the last is just thesort of skill a common white American would be likely to manifest,his readiness and ingenuity in all such processes almost amountingto an instinct.

　　Having thus thrown his mantle around le Bourdon for the moment,Peter then deemed it the better course to finish the historicalinvestigation in which the council had been so much interested, whenthe strange interruption by the wolves occurred. With this view,therefore, he rose himself, and recalled the minds of all present tothis interesting subject, by a short speech. This he did, especiallyto prevent any premature attack on the person of le Bourdon.

　　"Brothers," said this mysterious chief, "it is good for Injins tolearn. When they learn a thing, they know it; then they may learnanother. It is in this way that the pale-faces do; it makes themwise, and puts it in their power to take away our hunting-grounds. Aman that knows nothing is only a child that has grown up too fast.He may be big--may take long steps--may be strong enough to carryburdens--may love venison and buffaloes' humps; but his size is onlyin the way; his steps he does not know where to direct; his burdenshe does not know how to choose; and he has to beg food of thesquaws, instead of carrying it himself to their wigwams. He has notlearned how to take game. We must all learn. It is right. When wehave learned how to take game, and how to strike the enemy, and howto keep the wigwam filled, then we may learn traditions. Traditionstell us of our fathers. We have many traditions. Some are talked of,even to the squaws. Some are told around the fires of the tribes.Some are known only to the aged chiefs. This is right, too. Injinsought not to say too much, nor too little. They should say what iswise--what is best. But my brother, the medicine-man of the pale-faces, says that our traditions have not told us everything.Something has been kept back. If so, it is best to learn that too.If we are Jews, and not Injins, we ought to know it. If we areInjins, and not Jews, our brother ought to know it, and not call usby a wrong name. Let him speak. We listen."

　　Here Peter slowly resumed his seat. As the missionary understood allthat had been said, he next arose, and proceeded to make good, asfar as he was able, and in such language as his knowledge of Indianhabits suggested, his theory of the lost tribes.

　　"I wish my children to understand," resumed the missionary, "that itis an honor to be a Jew. I have not come here to lessen the red menin their own eyes, but to do them honor. I see that Bear's Meatwishes to say something; my ears are open, and my tongue is still."

　　"I thank my brother for the opportunity to say what is on my mind,"returned the chief mentioned. "It is true I have something to say;it is this: I wish to ask the medicine-man if the pale-faces honorand show respect to the Jews?"

　　This was rather an awkward question for the missionary, but he wasmuch too honest to dissemble. With a reverence for truth thatproceeded from his reverence for the Father of all that is true, hereplied honestly, though not altogether without betraying how muchhe regretted the necessity of answering at all. Both remainedstanding while the dialogue proceeded; or in parliamentary language,each may be said to have had the floor at the same time.

　　"My brother wishes to know if the pale-faces honor the Jews,"returned the missionary. "I wish I could answer 'yes'; but the truthforces me to say 'no.' The pale-faces have traditions that makeagainst the Jews, and the judgments of God weigh heavy on thechildren of Israel. But all good Christians, now, look with friendlyeyes on this dispersed and persecuted people, and wish them well. Itwill give the white men very great pleasure to learn that I havefound the lost tribes of Israel in the red men of America."

　　"Will my brother tell us why this will give his people pleasure? Isit because they will be glad to find old enemies, poor, living onnarrow hunting-grounds, off which the villages and farms of thepale-faces begin to push them still nearer to the setting sun; andtoward whom the small-pox has found a path to go, but none to comefrom?"

　　"Nay, nay, Bear's Meat, think not so unkindly of us of the whiterace! In crossing the great salt lake, and in coming to this quarterof the world, our fathers were led by the finger of God. We do butobey the will of the Great Spirit, in pressing forward into thiswilderness, directed by his wisdom how to spread the knowledge ofhis name among those who, as yet, have never heard it; or, havingheard, have not regarded it. In all this, the wisest men are butbabes; not being able to say whither they are to go, or what is tobe done."

　　"This is strange," returned the unmoved Indian. "It is not so withthe red men. Our squaws and pappooses do know the hunting-ground ofone tribe from the hunting-ground of another. When they put theirfeet on strange hunting-grounds, it is because they intended to gothere, and to steal game. This is sometimes right. If it is right totake the scalp of an enemy, it is right to get his deer and hisbuffalo, too. But we never do this without knowing it. If we did, weshould be unfit to go at large, unfit to sit in council. This is thefirst time I have heard that the pale-faces are so weak, and theyhave such feeble minds, too, that they do not know where they go."

　　"My brother does not understand me. No man can see into the future--no man can say what will happen to-morrow. The Great Spirit only cantell. It is for him, then, to guide his children in theirwanderings. When our fathers first came out of their canoes upon theland, on this side of the great salt lake, not one among them knewanything of this country between the great lakes of sweet water.They did not know that red men lived here. The Great Spirit didknow, and intended then, that I should this night stand up in thiscouncil, and speak of his power and of his name, and do himreverence. It was the Great Spirit that put it into my mind to comeamong the Indians; and it is the Great Spirit who has led me, stepby step, as warriors move toward the graves of their fathers, tomake the discovery, that the Indians are, in truth, the children ofIsrael, a part of his own chosen and once much-favored people. Letme ask my friends one or two questions. Do not your traditions saythat your fathers once came from a far-off land?"

　　Bear's Meat now took his seat, not choosing to answer a question ofthis nature, in the presence of a chief so much respected as Peter.He preferred to let the last take up the dialogue where he now sawfit to abandon it. As the other very well understood the reason ofthis sudden movement, he quietly assumed the office of spokesman;the whole affair proceeding much as if there had been no change.

　　"Our traditions do tell us that our fathers came from a far-offland," answered Peter, without rising.

　　"I thought so!--I thought so!" exclaimed the simple-minded andconfiding missionary. "How wonderful are the ways of God! Yes, mybrother, Judea is a far-off land, and your traditions say that yourfathers came from such a distance! This, then, is something proved.Do not your traditions say, that once your tribes were more in favorwith the Great Spirit than they are now?"

　　"Our traditions do say this: once our tribes did not see the face ofthe Manitou looking dark upon them, as it now does. That was beforethe pale-faces came in their big canoes, across the great salt lake,to drive the Indians from their hunting-grounds. It was when thesmall-pox had not found the path to their villages. When fire-waterwas unknown to them, and no Indian had ever burned his throat withit."

　　"Oh, but I speak of a time much more distant than that. Of a timewhen your prophets stood face to face with God, and talked with theCreator. Since that day a great change has come over your people.Then your color was light, like that of the fairest and handsomestof the Circassian race; now, it has become red. When even the coloris changed, it is not wonderful that men should no longer be thesame in other particulars. Yes; once all the races of men were ofthe same color and origin."

　　"This is not what our traditions say. We have heard from our fathersthat the Great Spirit made men of different colors; some he madelight, like the pale-faces; some red, like the Injins; some black,like the pale-faces' slaves. To some he gave high noses; to some lownoses: to some flat noses. To the pale-faces he gave eyes of manycolors. This is the reason why they see so many things, and in somany different ways. To the red men he gave eyes of the same color,and they always see things of the same color. To a red man there isno change. Our fathers have always been red. This we know. If themJews, of whom my brother speaks, were ever white, they have not beenour fathers. We tell this to the medicine-man, that he may know it,too. We do not wish to lead him on a crooked path, or to speak tohim with a forked tongue. What we have said, is so. Now, the road isopen to the wigwam of the pale-faces, and we wish them safe on theirjourney home. We Injins have a council to hold around this fire, andwill stay longer."

　　At this plain intimation that their presence was no longerdesirable, it became necessary for them to depart. The missionary,filled with zeal, was reluctant to go, for, in his eyes, the presentcommunications with the savages promised him not only the conversionof pagans, but the restoration of the Jews! Nevertheless, he wascompelled to comply; and when le Bourdon and the corporal took theirdeparture, he turned, and pronounced in solemn tone the Christianbenediction on the assembly. The meaning of this last impressiveoffice was understood by most of the chiefs, and they rose as oneman, in acknowledgment.

　　The three white men, on retiring from the circle, held their waytoward Castle Meal. Hive followed his master, having come out of thecombat but little injured. As they got to a point where a last lookcould be had of the bottom-land of the council, each turned to seewhat was now in the course of proceeding. The fire glimmered justenough to show the circlet of dark faces, but not an Indian spoke ormoved. There they all sat, patiently waiting for the moment when the"strangers" might "withdraw" to a sufficient distance, to permitthem to proceed with their own private affairs without fear ofinterruption.

　　"This has been to me a most trying scene," observed the missionary,as the three pursued their way toward the garrison. "How hard it isto convince men against their wishes. Now, I am as certain as a mancan be, that every one of these Injins is in fact a Jew; and yet,you have seen how small has been my success in persuading them to beof the right way of thinking, on this subject."

　　"I have always noticed that men stick even to their defects, whenthey're nat'ral," returned the bee-hunter. "Even a nigger will standup for his color, and why shouldn't an Injin? You began wrong,parson. Had you just told these chiefs that they were Jews, theymight have stood that, poor creatures, for they hardly know howmankind looks upon a Jew; but you went to work to skin them, in alump, making so many poor, wishy-washy pale-faces of all the red-skins, in a body. You and I may fancy a white face better than oneof any other color; but nature colors the eye when it colors thebody, and there's not a nigger in America who doesn't think blackthe pink of beauty."

　　"Perhaps it was proceeding too fast to say anything about the changeof color, Bourdon. But what can a Christian minister do, unless hetell the truth? Adam could have been but of one color; and all theraces on earth, one excepted, must have changed from that onecolor."

　　"Aye, and my life on it, that all the races on 'arth believe thatone color to have been just that which has fallen to the luck ofeach partic'lar shade. Hang me if I should like to be persuaded outof my color, any more than these Injins. In America, color goes fora great deal; and it may count for as much with an Injin as among uswhites. No, no, parson; you should have begun with persuading thesesavages into the notion that they're Jews; if you could get alongwith that, the rest might be all the easier."

　　"You speak of the Jews, not as if you considered them a chosenpeople of the Lord, but as a despised and hateful race. This is notright, Bourdon. I know that Christians are thus apt to regard them;but it does not tell well for their charity or their knowledge."

　　"I know very little about them, Parson Amen; not being certain ofever having seen a Jew in my life. Still, I will own that I have asort of grudge against them, though I can hardly tell you why. Ofone thing I feel certain--no man breathing should ever persuade meinto the notion that I'M a Jew, lost or found; ten tribes or twenty.What say you, corporal, to this idea?"

　　"Just as you say, Bourdon. Jews, Turks, and infidels, I despise: sowas I brought up, and so I shall remain."

　　"Can either of you tell me why you look in this uncharitable light,on so many of your fellow-creatures? It cannot be Christianity, forsuch are not its teachings or feelings. Nor is either of you veryremarkable for his observance of the laws of God, as they have beenrevealed to Christian people. My heart yearns toward these Injins,who are infidels, instead of entertaining any of the feelings thatthe corporal has just expressed."

　　"I wish there were fewer of them, and that them few were fartherfrom Castle Meal," put in le Bourdon, with point. "I have known allalong that Peter meant to have a great council; but will own, nowthat I have seen something of it, I do not find it quite as much tomy mind as I had expected it would be."

　　"There's a strong force on 'em," said the corporal, "and a hard setbe they to look at. When a man's a young soldier, all this paint,and shaving of heads, and rings in noses and ears, makes someimpression; but a campaign or two ag'in' the fellows soon brings alldown to one color and one uniform, if their naked hides can be socalled. I told 'em off, Bourdon, and reconn'itred 'em pretty well,while they was a making speeches; and, in my judgment, we can holdgood the garrison ag'in' 'em all, if so be we do not run short ofwater. Provisions and water is what a body may call fundamentals, ina siege."

　　"I hope we shall have no need of force--nay, I feel persuaded therewill not be," said Parson Amen. "Peter is our friend; and hiscommand over these savages is wonderful! Never before have I seenred men so completely under the control of a chief. Your men at FortDearborn, corporal, were scarcely more under the orders of theirofficers, than these red-skins are under the orders of this chief!"

　　"I will not go to compare rig'lars with Injins, Mr. Parson,"answered the corporal, a little stiffly. "They be not of the samenatur' at all, and ought not to be put on a footing, in anyparticular. These savages may obey their orders, after a fashion oftheir own; but I should like to see them manoeuvre under fire. I'vefit Injins fourteen times, in my day, and have never seen a decentline, or a good, honest, manly, stand-up charge, made by the bestamong 'em, in any field, far or near. Trees and covers is necessaryto their constitutions, just as sartain as a deer chased will taketo water to throw off the scent. Put 'em up with the baggonet, andthey'll not stand a minute."

　　"How should they, corporal," interrupted le Bourdon laughing, "whenthey've no baggonets of their own to make a stand with? You put onein mind of what my father used to say. He was a soldier inrevolution times, and sarved his seven years with Washington. TheEnglish used to boast that the Americans wouldn't 'stand up to therack,' if the baggonet was set to work; 'but this was before we gotour own toothpicks,' said the old man. 'As soon as they gave usbaggonets, too, there was no want of standing up to the work.' Itseems to me, corporal, you overlook the fact that Injins carry nobaggonets."

　　"Every army uses its own weapons. If an Injin prefers his knife andhis tomahawk to a baggonet, it is no affair of mine. I speak of acharge as I see it; and the soldier who relies on a tomahawk insteadof a baggonet, should stand in his tracks, and give tomahawk play.No, no, Bourdon, seeing is believing. These red-skins can do nothingwith our people, when our people is properly regimented, wellofficered, and thoroughly drilled. They're skeary to new beginners--that I must acknowledge--but beyond that I set them down as nothingremarkable as military men."

　　"Good or bad, I wish there were fewer of them, and that they werefarther off. This man Peter is a mystery to me: sometimes he seemsquite friendly; then, ag'in, he appears just ready to take all ourscalps. Do you know much of his past history, Mr. Amen?"

　　"Not as much as I wish I did," the missionary replied. "No one cantell me aught concerning Peter, beyond the fact of his being a sortof a prophet, and a chief of commanding influence. Even his tribe isunknown; a circumstance that points us to the ancient history of theJews for the explanation. It is my own opinion that Peter is of therace of Aaron, and that he is designed by Divine Providence to playan important part in the great events on which we touch. All that iswanting is, to persuade him into this belief, himself. Once persuadea man that he is intended to be something, and your work is halfdone to your hands. But the world is so full of ill-digested andrandom theories, that truth has as much as it can do to obtain asober and patient hearing!"

　　Thus is it with poor human nature. Let a man get a crotchet into hishead--however improbable it may be, however little supported byreason or fact, however ridiculous, indeed--and he becomesindisposed to receive any evidence but that which favors his theory;to see any truths but such as he fancies will harmonize with histruths; or to allow of any disturbing causes in the great workingsof his particular philosophy. This notion of Parson Amen'sconcerning the origin of the North American savage, did notoriginate with that simple-minded enthusiast, by any means. In thisway are notions formed and nurtured. The missionary had readsomewhat concerning the probability that the American Indians werethe lost tribes of Israel; and possessed with the idea, everythinghe saw was tortured into evidence in support of his theory. There isjust as much reason for supposing that any, and all, of the heathensavages that are scattered up and down the earth have this origin,as to ascribe it to our immediate tribes; but to this truth the goodparson was indifferent, simply because it did not come within thecircle of his particular belief.

　　Thus, too, was it with the corporal. Unless courage, and othermilitary qualities, were manifested precisely in the way in which hehad been trained, they were not courage and military qualities atall. Every virtue has its especial and conventional accessories,according to this school of morals; nothing of the sort remaining asit came from above, in the simple abstract qualities of right andwrong. On such feelings and principles as these, do men get to bedogmatical, narrow-minded, and conceited!

　　Our three white men pursued their way back to the "garrison,"conversing as they went, much in the manner they did in the dialoguewe have just recorded. Neither Parson Amen nor the corporal seemedto apprehend anything, not-withstanding the extraordinary scene inwhich one had been an actor, and of which the other had been awitness. Their wonder and apprehensions, no doubt, were muchmitigated by the fact, that it was understood Peter was to meet alarge collection of the chiefs in the Openings, and the minds of allwere, more or less, prepared to see some such assemblage as had thatnight got together. The free manner in which the mysterious chiefled the missionary to the circle, was, of itself, some proof that hedid not desire concealment; and even le Bourdon admitted, when theycame to discuss the details, that this was a circumstance that toldmaterially in favor of the friendliness of his intentions. Still,the bee-hunter had his doubts; and most sincerely did he wish thatall in Castle Meal, Blossom in particular, were safe within thelimits of civilized settlements.

　　On reaching the "garrison," all was safe. Whiskey Centre watched thegate--a sober man, now, perforce, if not by inclination; for beingin the Openings, in this respect, is like being at sea with an emptyspirit-room. He was aware that several had passed out, but wassurprised to learn that Peter was of the number. That gate Peter hadnot passed, of a certainty; and how else he could quit the palisadeswas not easily understood. It was possible to climb over them, it istrue; but the feat would be attended with so great an exertion, andwould be so likely to lead to a noise which would expose the effort,that all had great difficulty in believing a man so dignified andreserved in manner as this mysterious chief would be apt to resortto such means of quitting the place.

　　As for the Chippewa, Gershom reported his return a few minutesbefore; and the bee-hunter entered, to look for that tried friend,as soon as he learned the fact. He found Pigeonswing laying asidehis accoutrements, previously to lying down to take his rest.

　　"So, Chippewa, you have come back, have you?" exclaimed le Bourdon."So many of your red-skin brethren are about, that I didn't expectto see you again for these two or three days."

　　"No want to eat, den, eh? How you all eat, if hunter don't do heduty? S'pose squaw don't cook vittles, you no like it, eh? Juss sowid hunter--no kill vittles, don't like it nudder."

　　"This is true enough. Still, so many of your people are about, justnow, that I thought it probable you might wish to remain outsidewith them for a day or two."

　　"How know red man about, eh? You see him--you count him eh?"

　　"I have seen something like fifty, and may say I counted that many.They were chiefs, however, and I take it for granted, a goodlynumber of common warriors are not far off. Am I right, Pigeonswing?"

　　"S'pose don't know--den, can't tell? Only tell what he know."

　　"Sometimes an Injin guesses, and comes as near the truth as a whiteman who has seen the thing with his own Pigeonswing made no answer;though le Bourdon fancied, from his manner, that he had reallysomething on his mind, and that, too, of importance, which he wishedto communicate.

　　"I think you might tell me some news that I should like to hear,Chippewa, if you was so minded."

　　"Why you stay here, eh?" demanded the Indian, abruptly. "Got plentyhoney--bess go home, now. Always bess go home, when hunt up. Homegood place, when hunter well tired."

　　"My home is here, in the Openings, Pigeonswing. When I go into thesettlements, I do little but loaf about among the farm-houses on theDetroit River, having neither squaw nor wigwam of my own to go to. Ilike this place well enough, if your red brethren will let me keepit in peace."

　　"Dis bad place for pale-face, juss now. Better go home, dan stay inOpenin'. If don't know short path to Detroit, I show you. Bess go,soon as can; and bess go alone. No good to be trouble wid squaw,when in hurry."

　　The countenance of le Bourdon changed at this last intimation;though the Indian might not have observed it in the darkness. Aftera brief pause, the first answered in a very determined way.

　　"I believe I understand you, Chippewa," he said. "I shall do nothingof the sort, however. If the squaws can't go, too, I shall not quitthem. Would you desert your squaws because you thought them introuble?"

　　"An't your squaw yet. Bess not have squaw at all, when Openin' sofull of Injin. Where you t'ink is two buck I shoot dis mornin', eh?Skin 'em, cut 'em up, hang 'em on tree, where wolf can't get 'em.Well, go on after anudder; kill him, too. Dere he is, inside ofpalisade, but no tudder two. He bot' gone, when I get back to tree.Two good buck as ever see! How you like dat, eh?"

　　"I care very little about it, since we have food enough, and are notlikely to want. So the wolves got your venison from the trees, afterall your care; ha! Pigeonswing."

　　"Wolf don't touch him--wolf can't touch him. Moccasin been undertree. See him mark. Bess do as I tell you; go home, soon as evercan. Short path to Detroit; an't two hundred pale-face mile."

　　"I see how it is, Pigeonswing; I see how it is, and thank you forthis hint, while I honor your good faith to your own people. But Icannot go to Detroit, in the first place, for that town and forthave fallen into the hands of the British. It might be possible fora canoe to get past in the night, and to work its way through intoLake Erie, but I cannot quit my friends. If you can put us all inthe way of getting away from this spot, I shall be ready to enterinto the scheme. Why can't we all get into the canoe, and go downstream, as soon as another night sets in? Before morning we could betwenty miles on our road."

　　"No do any good," returned Pigeonswing, coldly. "If can't go alone,can't go at all. Squaw no keep up when so many be on trail. No goodto try canoe. Catch you in two days--p'raps one. Well, I go tosleep--can't keep eye open all night."

　　Hereupon, Pigeonswing coolly repaired to his skins, lay down, andwas soon fast asleep. The bee-hunter was fain to do the same, thenight being now far advanced; but he lay awake a long time, thinkingof the hint he had received, and pondering on the nature of thedanger which menaced the security of the family. At length, sleepasserted its power over even him, and the place lay in the deepstillness of night.