Chapter II.

by James Fenimore Cooper

　　How skilfully it builds its cell, How neat it spreads the wax, And labors hard to store it well, With the sweet food it makes. WATTS' HYMNS FOR CHILDREN.The next thing was to ascertain which was the particular tree inwhich the bees had found a shelter. Collecting his implements, leBourdon was soon ready, and, with a light elastic tread, he movedoff toward the point of the wood, followed by the whole party. Thedistance was about half a mile, and men so much accustomed to usetheir limbs made light of it. In a few minutes all were there, andthe bee-hunter was busy in looking for his tree. This was theconsummation of the whole process, and Ben was not only provided forthe necessities of the case, but he was well skilled in all thesigns that betokened the abodes of bees.

　　An uninstructed person might have passed that point of wood athousand times, without the least consciousness of the presence of asingle insect of the sort now searched for. In general, the beesflew too high to be easily perceptible from the ground, though apractised eye can discern them at distances that would almost seemto be marvellous. But Ben had other assistants than his eyes. Heknew that the tree he sought must be hollow, and such trees usuallygive outward signs of the defect that exists within. Then, somespecies of wood are more frequented by the bees than others, whilethe instinct of the industrious little creatures generally enablesthem to select such homes as will not be very likely to destroy allthe fruits of their industry by an untimely fall. In all theseparticulars, both bees and bee-hunter were well versed, and Ben madehis search accordingly.

　　Among the other implements of his calling, le Bourdon had a smallspy-glass; one scarcely larger than those that are used in theatres,but which was powerful and every way suited to its purposes. Ben wasnot long in selecting a tree, a half-decayed elm, as the one likelyto contain the hive; and by the aid of his glass he soon saw beesflying among its dying branches, at a height of not less thanseventy feet from the ground. A little further search directed hisattention to a knot-hole, in and out of which the glass enabled himto see bees passing in streams. This decided the point; and puttingaside all his implements but the axe, Buzzing Ben now set about thetask of felling the tree.

　　"Stranger," said Gershom, when le Bourdon had taken out the firstchip, "perhaps you'd better let me do that part of the job. I shallexpect to come in for a share of the honey, and I'm willing to 'arnall I take. I was brought up on axes, and jack-knives, and sich sortof food, and can cut or whittle with the best chopper, or theneatest whittler, in or out of New England."

　　"You can try your hand, if you wish it," said Ben, relinquishing theaxe. "I can fell a tree as well as yourself, but have no such lovefor the business as to wish to keep it all to myself."

　　"Waal, I can say, I like it," answered Gershom, first passing histhumb along the edge of the axe, in order to ascertain its state;then swinging the tool, with a view to try its "hang."

　　"I can't say much for your axe, stranger, for this helve has notarve to't, to my mind; but, sich as it is, down must come this elm,though ten millions of bees should set upon me for my pains."

　　This was no idle boast of Waring's. Worthless as he was in so manyrespects, he was remarkably skilful with the axe, as he now provedby the rapid manner in which he severed the trunk of the large elmon which he was at work. He inquired of Ben where he should "lay thetree," and when it came clattering down, it fell on the precise spotindicated. Great was the confusion among the bees at this suddendownfall of their long-cherished home. The fact was not known totheir enemy, but they had inhabited that tree for a long time; andthe prize now obtained was the richest he had ever made in hiscalling. As for the insects, they filled the air in clouds, and allthe invaders deemed it prudent to withdraw to some little distancefor a time, lest the irritated and wronged bees should set upon themand take an ample revenge. Had they known their power, this mighteasily have been done, no ingenuity of man being able to protect himagainst the assaults of this insignificant-looking animal, whenunable to cover himself, and the angry little heroes are in earnest.On the present occasion, however, no harm befell the marauders. Sosuddenly had the hive tumbled that its late occupants appeared to beastounded, and they submitted to their fate as men yield to thepower of tempests and earthquakes. In half an hour most of them werecollected on an adjacent tree, where doubtless a consultation on themode of future proceedings was held, after their fashion.

　　The Indians were more delighted with le Bourdon's ingenious mode ofdiscovering the hive than with the richness of the prize; while Benhimself, and Gershom, manifested most satisfaction at the amount ofthe earnings. When the tree was cut in pieces, and split, it wasascertained that years of sweets were contained within its capaciouscavities, and Ben estimated the portion that fell to his share atmore than three hundred pounds of good honey--comb included--afterdeducting the portions that were given to the Indians, and whichwere abstracted by Gershom. The three last, however, could carry butlittle, as they had no other means of bearing it away than their ownbacks.

　　The honey was not collected that night. The day was too far advancedfor that; and le Bourdon--certainly never was name less merited thanthis sobriquet as applied to the active young bee-hunter--but leBourdon, to give him his quaint appellation, offered thehospitalities of his own cabin to the strangers, promising to putthem on their several paths the succeeding day, with a good store ofhoney in each knapsack.

　　"They do say there ar' likely to be troublesome times." hecontinued, with simple earnestness, after having given theinvitation to partake of his homely fare; "and I should like to hearwhat is going on in the world. From Whiskey Centre I do not expectto learn much, I will own; but I am mistaken if the Pigeonswing,here, has not a message that will make us all open our ears."

　　The Indians ejaculated their assent; but Gershom was a man who couldnot express anything sententiously. As the bee-hunter led the waytoward his cabin, or shanty, he made his comments with his customaryfreedom. Before recording what he communicated, however, we shalldigress for one moment in order to say a word ourselves concerningthis term "shanty." It is now in general use throughout the whole ofthe United States, meaning a cabin that has been constructed inhaste, and for temporary purposes. By a license of speech, it isoccasionally applied to more permanent residences, as men are knownto apply familiar epithets to familiar objects. The derivation ofthe word has caused some speculation. The term certainly came fromthe West-perhaps from the Northwest-and the best explanation we haveever heard of its derivation is to sup-pose "shanty," as we nowspell it, a corruption of "chiente," which it is thought may havebeen a word in Canadian French phrase to express a "dog-kennel.""Chenil," we believe, is the true French term for such a thing, andour own word is said to be derived from it--"meute" meaning "akennel of dogs," or "a pack of hounds," rather than their dwelling.At any rate, "chiente" is so plausible a solution of the difficulty,that one may hope it is the true one, even though he has no betterauthority for it than a very vague rumor. Curious discoveries aresometimes made by these rude analogies, however, though they aregenerally thought not to be very near akin to learning. Forourselves, now, we do not entertain a doubt that the sobriquet of"Yankees" which is in every man's mouth, and of which the derivationappears to puzzle all our philologists, is nothing but a slightcorruption of the word "Yengeese," the term applied to the"English," by the tribes to whom they first became known. We have noother authority for this derivation than conjecture, and conjecturesthat are purely our own; but it is so very plausible as almost tocarry conviction of itself. [Footnote: Since writing the above, theauthor has met with an allusion that has induced him to think he maynot have been the first to suggest this derivation of the word"Yankee." With himself, the suggestion is perfectly original, andhas long since been published by him; but nothing is more probablethan the fact that a solution so very natural, of this long-disputedquestion in language, may have suggested itself to various minds.]

　　The "chiente'" or shanty of le Bourdon stood quite near to the banksof the Kalamazoo, and in a most beautiful grove of the burr-oak. Benhad selected the site with much taste, though the proximity of aspring of delicious water had probably its full share in influencinghis decision. It was necessary, moreover, that he should be near theriver, as his great movements were all made by water, for theconvenience of transporting his tools, furniture, etc., as well ashis honey. A famous bark canoe lay in a little bay, out of thecurrent of the stream, securely moored, head and stern, in order toprevent her beating against any object harder than herself.

　　The dwelling had been constructed with some attention to security.This was rendered necessary, in some measure, as Ben had found byexperience, on account of two classes of enemies--men and bears.From the first, it is true, the bee-hunter had hitherto apprehendedbut little. There were few human beings in that region. The northernportions of the noble peninsula of Michigan are some-what low andswampy, or are too broken and savage to tempt the native huntersfrom the openings and prairies that then lay, in such richprofusion, further south and west. With the exception of the shores,or coasts, it was seldom that the northern half of the peninsulafelt the footstep of man. With the southern half, however, it wasvery different; the "openings," and glades, and watercourses,offering almost as many temptations to the savage as they have sincedone to the civilized man. Nevertheless, the bison, or the buffalo,as the animal is erroneously, but very generally, termed throughoutthe country, was not often found in the vast herds of which we read,until one reached the great prairies west of the Mississippi. Thereit was that the red men most loved to congregate; though alwaysbearing, in numbers, but a trifling proportion to the surface theyoccupied. In that day, however, near as to the date, but distant asto the events, the Chippewas, Ottawas, Pottawattamies, kindredtribes, we believe, had still a footing in Michigan proper, and wereto be found in considerable numbers in what was called the St.Joseph's country, or along the banks of the stream of that name; aregion that almost merits the lofty appellation of the garden ofAmerica. Le Bourdon knew many of their warriors, and was muchesteemed among them; though he had never met with either of thosewhom chance now had thrown in his way. In general, he sufferedlittle wrong from the red men, who wondered at his occupation, whilethey liked his character; but he had sustained losses, and even ill-treatment, from certain outcasts of the tribes, as well as fromvagrant whites, who occasionally found their way to his temporarydwellings. On the present occasion, le Bourdon felt far moreuneasiness from the circumstance of having his abode known toGershom Waring, a countryman and fellow-Christian, in one sense atleast, than from its being known to the Chippewa and thePottawattamie.

　　The bears were constant and dangerous sources of annoyance to thebee-hunter. It was not often that an armed man--and le Bourdonseldom moved without his rifle--has much to apprehend from thecommon brown bear of America. Though a formidable-looking animal,especially when full grown, it is seldom bold enough to attack ahuman being, nothing but hunger, or care for its young, everinducing it to go so much out of the ordinary track of its habits.But the love of the bear for honey amounts to a passion. Not onlywill it devise all sorts of bearish expedients to get at the sweetmorsels, but it will scent them from afar. On one occasion, a familyof Bruins had looked into a shanty of Ben's, that was notconstructed with sufficient care, and consummated their burglary bydemolishing the last comb. That disaster almost ruined theadventurer, then quite young in his calling; and ever since itsoccurrence he had taken the precaution to build such a citadel asshould at least set teeth and paws at defiance. To one who had anaxe, with access to young pines, this was not a difficult task, aswas proved by the present habitation of our hero.

　　This was the second season that le Bourdon had occupied "CastleMeal," as he himself called the shanty. This appellation was acorruption of "chateau au Mtel" a name given to it by a wag of avoyageur^ who had aided Ben in ascending the Kalamazoo the previoussummer, and had remained long enough with him to help him put up hishabitation. The building was just twelve feet square, in theinterior, and somewhat less than fourteen on its exterior. It wasmade of pine logs, in the usual mode, with the additional securityof possessing a roof of squared timbers of which the several partswere so nicely fitted together as to shed rain. This unusualprecaution was rendered necessary to protect the honey, since thebears would have unroofed the common bark coverings of the shanties,with the readiness of human beings, in order to get at stores asample as those which the bee-hunter had soon collected beneath hisroof. There was one window of glass, which le Bourdon had brought inhis canoe; though it was a single sash of six small lights, thatopened on hinges; the exterior being protected by stout bars ofriven oak, securely let into the logs. The door was made of threethicknesses of oaken plank, pinned well together, and swinging onstout iron hinges, so secured as not to be easily removed. Itsoutside fastening was made by means of two stout staples, a shortpiece of ox-chain, and an unusually heavy padlock. Nothing short ofan iron bar, and that cleverly applied, could force this fastening.On the inside, three bars of oak rendered all secure, when themaster was at home.

　　"You set consid'rable store by your honey, I guess, stranger," saidGershom, as le Bourdon unlocked the fastenings and removed thechain, "if a body may judge by the kear (care) you take on't! Now,down our way we ain't half so partic'lar; Dolly and Blossom never somuch as putting up a bar to the door, even when I sleep out, whichis about half the time, now the summer is fairly set in."

　　"And whereabouts is 'down our way,' if one may be so bold as to askthe question?" returned le Bourdon, holding the door half-opened,while he turned his face toward the other, in expectation of theanswer.

　　"Why, down at Whiskey Centre, to be sure, as the v'y'gerers andother boatmen call the place."

　　"And where is Whiskey Centre?" demanded Ben, a littlepertinaciously.

　　"Why, I thought everybody would 'a' known that," answered Greshom;"sin' whiskey is as drawin' as a blister. Whiskey Centre is justwhere I happen to live; bein' what a body may call a travellin'name. As I'm now down at the mouth of the Kalamazoo, why WhiskeyCentre's there, too."

　　"I understand the matter, now," answered le Bourdon, composing hiswell-formed mouth in a sort of contemptuous smile. "You and whiskey,being sworn friends, are always to be found in company. When I cameinto the river, which was the last week in April, I saw nothing likewhiskey, nor anything like a Centre at the mouth."

　　"If you'd 'a' be'n a fortnight later, stranger, you'd 'a' foundboth. Travellin' Centres, and stationary, differs somewhat, I guess;one is always to be found, while t'other must be s'arched a'ter."

　　"And pray who are Dolly and Blossom; I hope the last is not awhiskey blossom?"

　　"Not she--she never touches a spoonful, though I tell her it neverhurt mortal! She tries hard to reason me into it that it hurts me--but that's all a mistake, as anybody can see that jest looks at me."

　　Ben did look at him; and, to say truth, came to a somewhat differentconclusion.

　　"Is she so blooming that you call her 'Blossom'?" demanded the bee-hunter, "or is she so young?"

　　"The gal's a little of both. Dolly is my wife, and Blossom is mysister. The real name of Blossom is Margery Waring, but everybodycalls her Blossom; and so I gi'n into it, with the rest on 'em."

　　It is probable that le Bourdon lost a good deal of his interest inthis flower of the wilderness, as soon as he learned she was sonearly related to the Whiskey Centre. Gershom was so very uninvitingan object, and had so many palpable marks, that he had fairly earnedthe nickname which, as it afterward appeared, the westernadventurers had given him, as well as his abode, wherever the lastmight be, that no one of decently sober habits could readily fancyanything belonging to him. At any rate, the bee-hunter now led theway into his cabin, whither he was followed without unnecessaryceremony, by all three of his guests.

　　The interior of the "chiente," to use the most poetical, if not themost accurate word, was singularly clean for an establishment set upby a bachelor, in so remote a part of the world. The honey, in neat,well-constructed kegs, was carefully piled along one side of theapartment, in a way to occupy the minimum of room, and to be ratherornamental than unsightly. These kegs were made by le Bourdonhimself, who had acquired as much of the art as was necessary tothat object. The woods always furnished the materials; and a pile ofstaves that was placed beneath a neighboring tree sufficientlydenoted that he did not yet deem that portion of his task completed.

　　In one corner of the hut was a pile of well-dressed bearskins, threein number, each and all of which had been taken from the carcassesof fallen foes, within the last two months. Three more werestretched on saplings, near by, in the process of curing. It was amaterial part of the bee-hunter's craft to kill this animal, inparticular; and the trophies of his conflicts with them wereproportionably numerous. On the pile already prepared, he usuallyslept.

　　There was a very rude table, a single board set up on sticks; and abench or two, together with a wooden chest of some size, completedthe furniture. Tools were suspended from the walls, it is true; andno less than three rifles, in addition to a very neat double-barrelled "shot-gun," or fowling-piece, were standing in a corner.These were arms collected by our hero in his different trips, andretained quite as much from affection as from necessity, or caution.Of ammunition, there was no very great amount visible; only three orfour horns and a couple of pouches being suspended from pegs: butBen had a secret store, as well as another rifle, carefully secured,in a natural magazine and arsenal, at a distance sufficiently greatfrom the chiente to remove it from all danger of sharing in thefortunes of his citadel, should disaster befall the last.

　　The cooking was done altogether out of doors. For this essentialcomfort, le Bourdon had made very liberal provision. He had a smalloven, a sufficiently convenient fire-place, and a storehouse, athand; all placed near the spring, and beneath the shade of amagnificent elm. In the storehouse he kept his barrel of flour, hisbarrel of salt, a stock of smoked or dried meat, and that which thewoodsman, if accustomed in early life to the settlements, prizesmost highly, a half-barrel of pickled pork. The bark canoe hadsufficed to transport all these stores, merely ballasting handsomelythat ticklish craft; and its owner relied on the honey to performthe same office on the return voyage, when trade or consumptionshould have disposed of the various articles just named.

　　The reader may smile at the word "trade," and ask where were thoseto be found who could be parties to the traffic. The vast lakes andinnumerable rivers of that region, however, remote as it then wasfrom the ordinary abodes of civilized man, offered facilities forcommunication that the active spirit of trade would be certain notto neglect. In the first place, there were always the Indians tobarter skins and furs against powder, lead, rifles, blankets, andunhappily "fire-water." Then, the white men who penetrated to thosesemi-wilds were always ready to "dicker" and to "swap," and to"trade" rifles, and watches, and whatever else they might happen topossess, almost to their wives and Children.

　　But we should be doing injustice to le Bourdon, were we in anymanner to confound him with the "dickering" race. He was a bee-hunter quite as much through love of the wilderness and love ofadventure, as through love of gain. Profitable he had certainlyfound the employment, or he probably would not have pursued it; butthere was many a man who--nay, most men, even in his own humbleclass in life-would have deemed his liberal earnings too hardlyobtained, when gained at the expense of all intercourse with theirown kind. But Buzzing Ben loved the solitude of his situation, itshazards, its quietude, relieved by passing moments of highexcitement; and, most of all, the self-reliance that wasindispensable equally to his success and his happiness. Woman, asyet, had never exercised her witchery over him, and every day washis passion for dwelling alone, and for enjoying the strange, butcertainly most alluring, pleasures of the woods, increasing andgaining strength in his bosom. It was seldom, now, that he heldintercourse even with the Indian tribes that dwelt near hisoccasional places of hunting; and frequently had he shifted hisground in order to avoid collision, however friendly, with whiteswho, like himself, were pushing their humble fortunes along theshores of those inland seas, which, as yet, were rarely indeedwhitened by a sail. In this respect, Boden and Waring were the veryantipodes of each other; Gershom being an inveterate gossip, indespite of his attachment to a vagrant and border life.

　　The duties of hospitality are rarely forgotten among border men. Theinhabitant of a town may lose his natural disposition to receive allwho offer at his board, under the pressure of society; but it isonly in most extraordinary exceptions that the frontier man is everknown to be inhospitable. He has little to offer, but that little isseldom withheld, either through prudence or niggardliness. Underthis feeling--we might call it habit also--le Bourdon now sethimself at work to place on the table such food as he had at commandand ready cooked. The meal which he soon pressed his guests to sharewith him was composed of a good piece of cold boiled pork, which Benhad luckily cooked the day previously, some bear's meat roasted, afragment of venison steak, both lean and cold, and the remains of aduck that had been shot the day before, in the Kalamazoo, withbread, salt, and, what was somewhat unusual in the wilderness, twoor three onions, raw. The last dish was highly relished by Gershom,and was slightly honored by Ben; but the Indians passed it over withcold indifference. The dessert consisted of bread and honey, whichwere liberally partaken of by all at table.

　　Little was said by either host or guests, until the supper wasfinished, when the whole party left the chiente, to enjoy theirpipes in the cool evening air, beneath the oaks of the grove inwhich the dwelling stood. Their conversation began to let theparties know something of each other's movements and characters.

　　"You are a Pottawattamie, and you a Chippewa," said le Bourdon, ashe courteously handed to his two red guests pipes of theirs, that hehad just stuffed with some of his own tobacco--"I believe you are asort of cousins, though your tribes are called by different names."

　　"Nation, Ojebway," returned the elder Indian, holding up a finger,by way of enforcing attention.

　　"Tribe, Pottawattamie," added the runner, in the same sententiousmanner.

　　"Baccy, good"--put in the senior, by way of showing he was wellcontented with his comforts.

　　"Have you nothin' to drink?" demanded Whiskey Centre, who saw nogreat merit in anything but "firewater."

　　"There is the spring," returned le Bourdon, gravely; "a gourd hangsagainst the tree."

　　Gershom made a wry face, but he did not move.

　　"Is there any news stirring among the tribes?" asked the bee-hunter,waiting, however, a decent interval, lest he might be supposed tobetray a womanly curiosity.

　　Elksfoot puffed away some time before he saw fit to answer,reserving a salvo in behalf of his own dignity. Then he removed thepipe, shook off the ashes, pressed down the fire a little, gave areviving draught or two, and quietly replied:

　　"Ask my young brother--he runner--he know."

　　But Pigeonswing seemed to be little more communicative than thePottawattamie. He smoked on in quiet dignity, while the bee-hunterpatiently waited for the moment when it might suit his younger guestto speak. That moment did not arrive for some time, though it cameat last. Almost five minutes after Elksfoot had made the allusionmentioned, the Ojebway, or Chippewa, removed his pipe also, andlooking courteously round at his host, he said with emphasis:

　　"Bad summer come soon. Pale-faces call young men togedder, and digup hatchet."

　　"I had heard something of this," answered le Bourdon, with asaddened countenance, "and was afraid it might happen."

　　"My brother dig up hatchet too, eh?" demanded Pigeonswing.

　　"Why should I? I am alone here, on the Openings, and it would seemfoolish in me to wish to fight."

　　"Got no tribe--no Ojebway--no Pottawattamie, eh?"

　　"I have my tribe, as well as another, Chippewa, but can see no use Ican be to it, here. If the English and Americans fight, it must be along way from this wilderness, and on or near the great salt lake."

　　"Don't know--nebber know, 'till see. English warrior plenty inCanada."

　　"That may be; but American warriors are not plenty here. Thiscountry is a wilderness, and there are no soldiers hereabouts, tocut each other's throats."

　　"What you t'ink him?" asked Pigeonswing, glancing at Gershom; who,unable to forbear any longer, had gone to the spring to mix a cupfrom a small supply that still remained of the liquor with which hehad left home. "Got pretty good scalp?"

　　"I suppose it is as good as another's--but he and I are countrymen,and we cannot raise the tomahawk on one another."

　　"Don't t'ink so. Plenty Yankee, him!"

　　Le Bourdon smiled at this proof of Pigeonswings sagacity, though hefelt a good deal of uneasiness at the purport of his discourse.

　　"You are right enough in that" he answered, "but I'm plenty ofYankee, too."

　　"No, don't say so," returned the Chippewa--"no, mustn't say dat.English; no Yankee. Him not a bit like you."

　　"Why, we are unlike each other, in some respects, it is true, thoughwe are countrymen, notwithstanding. My great father lives atWashington, as well as his."

　　The Chippewa appeared to be disappointed; perhaps he appeared sorry,too; for le Bourdon's frank and manly hospitality had disposed himto friendship instead of hostilities, while his admissions wouldrather put him in an antagonist position. It was probably with akind motive that he pursued the discourse in a way to give his hostsome insight into the true condition of matters in that part of theworld.

　　"Plenty Breetish in woods," he said, with marked deliberation andpoint. "Yankee no come yet."

　　"Let me know the truth, at once, Chippewa," exclaimed le Bourdon. "Iam but a peaceable bee-hunter, as you see, and wish no man's scalp,or any man's honey but my own. Is there to be a war between Americaand Canada, or not?"

　　"Some say, yes; some say, no," returned Pigeonswing, evasively, "Mypart, don't know. Go, now, to see. But plenty Montreal belt amongredskins; plenty rifle; plenty powder, too."

　　"I heard something of this as I came up the lakes," rejoined Ben;"and fell in with a trader, an old acquaintance, from Canada, and agood friend, too, though he is to be my enemy, according to law, whogave me to understand that the summer would not go over withoutblows. Still, they all seemed to be asleep at Mackinaw(Michilimackinac) as I passed there."

　　"Wake up pretty soon. Canada warrior take fort."

　　"If I thought that, Chippewa, I would be off this blessed night togive the alarm."

　　"No--t'ink better of dat."

　　"Go I would, if I died for it the next hour!"

　　"T'ink better--be no such fool, I tell you."

　　"And I tell you, Pigeonswing, that go I would, if the whole Ojebwaynation was on my trail. I am an American, and mean to stand by myown people, come what will."

　　"T'ought you only peaceable bee-hunter, just now," retorted theChippewa, a little sarcastically.

　　By this time le Bourdon had somewhat cooled, and he became consciousof his indiscretion. He knew enough of the history of the past, tobe fully aware that, in all periods of American history, theEnglish, and, for that matter, the French too, so long as they hadpossessions on this continent, never scrupled about employing thesavages in their conflicts. It is true, that these highly polished,and, we may justly add, humane nations--(for each is, out of allquestion, entitled to that character in the scale of comparativehumanity as between communities, and each if you will take its ownaccount of the matter, stands at the head of civilization in thisrespect)--would, notwithstanding these high claims, carry on theirAmerican wars by the agency of the tomahawk, the scalping-knife, andthe brand. Eulogies, though pronounced by ourselves on ourselves,cannot erase the stains of blood. Even down to the present hour, acloud does not obscure the political atmosphere between England andAmerica, that its existence may not be discovered on the prairies,by a movement among the In-dians. The pulse that is to be felt thereis a sure indication of the state of the relations between theparties. Every one knows that the savage, in his warfare, slays bothsexes and all ages; that the door-post of the frontier cabin isdefiled by the blood of the infant, whose brains have been dashedagainst it; and that the smouldering ruins of log-houses oftenerthan not cover the remains of their tenants. But what of all that?Brutus is still "an honorable man," and the American, who has notthis sin to answer for among his numberless transgressions, isreviled as a semi-barbarian! The time is at hand, when the Lion ofthe West will draw his own picture, too; and fortunate will it befor the characters of some who will gather around the easel, if theydo not discover traces of their own lineaments among his labors.

　　The feeling engendered by the character of such a warfare is thesecret of the deeply seated hostility which pervades the breast ofthe western American against the land of his ancestors. He neversees the Times, and cares not a rush for the mystifications of theQuarterly Review; but he remembers where his mother was brained, andhis father or brother tortured; aye, and by whose instrumentalitythe foul deeds were mainly done. The man of the world can understandthat such atrocities may be committed, and the people of theoffending nation remain ignorant of their existence, and, in ameasure, innocent of the guilt; but the sufferer, in his provincialpractice, makes no such distinction, confounding all alike in hisresentments, and including all that bear the hated name in hismaledictions. It is a fearful thing to awaken the anger of a nation;to excite in it a desire for revenge; and thrice is that dangermagnified, when the people thus aroused possess the activity, theresources, the spirit, and the enterprise of the Americans. We havebeen openly derided, and that recently, because, in the fulness ofour sense of power and sense of right, language that exceeds anydirect exhibition of the national strength has escaped the lips oflegislators, and, perhaps justly, has exposed them to the imputationof boastfulness. That derision, however, will not soon be repeated.The scenes enacting in Mexico, faint as they are in comparison withwhat would have been seen, had hostilities taken an other direction,place a perpetual gag in the mouths of all scoffers. The child ispassing from the gristle into the bone, and the next generation willnot even laugh, as does the present, at any idle and ill-consideredmenaces to coerce this republic; strong in the consciousness of itsown power, it will eat all such fanfaronades, if any futurestatesman should be so ill-advised as to renew them, with silentindifference.

　　Now, le Bourdon was fully aware that one of the surest pulses ofapproaching hostilities between England and America was to be feltin the far West. If the Indians were in movement, some power wasprobably behind the scenes to set them in motion. Pigeonswing waswell known to him by reputation; and there was that about the manwhich awakened the most unpleasant apprehensions, and he felt anitching desire to learn all he could from him, without betraying anymore of his own feelings, if that were possible.

　　"I do not think the British will attempt Mackinaw," Ben remarked,after a long pause and a good deal of smoking had enabled him toassume an air of safe indifference.

　　"Got him, I tell you," answered Pigeonswing, pointedly.

　　"Got what, Chippewa?"

　　"Him--Mac-naw--got fort--got so'gers--got whole island. Know dat,for been dere."

　　This was astounding news, indeed! The commanding officer of thatill-starred garrison could not himself have been more astonished,when he was unexpectedly summoned to surrender by an enemy whoappeared to start out of the earth, than was le Bourdon, at hearingthis intelligence. To western notions, Michilimackinac was anotherGibraltar, although really a place of very little strength, andgarrisoned by only one small company of regulars. Still, habit hadgiven the fortress a sort of sanctity among the adventurers of thatregion; and its fall, even in the settled parts of the country,sounded like the loss of a province. It is now known that,anticipating the movements of the Americans, some three hundredwhites, sustained by more than twice that number of Indians,including warriors from nearly every adjacent tribe, had surprisedthe post on the 17th of July, and compelled the subaltern incommand, with some fifty odd men, to surrender. This rapid andhighly military measure, on the part of the British, completely cutoff the post of Chicago, at the head of Lake Michigan, leaving itisolated, on what was then a very remote wilderness. Chicago,Mackinac, and Detroit, were the three grand stations of theAmericans on the upper lakes, and here were two of them virtuallygone at a blow!