CHAPTER XVIII.
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, in particular,following their instincts, are often seen in packs, pressing upon theheels of the antelope, deer, and other creatures of that family, whichdepend for safety more on their speed than on their horns. On thepresent occasion, a fine buck, with a pack of fifty wolves close afterit, came bounding through the narrow gorge that contained the rill, andentered the amphitheatre of the bottom-land. Its headlong career wasfirst checked by the sight of the fire; then arose a dark circle of men,each armed and accustomed to the chase. In much less time than it hastaken to record the fact, that little piece of bottom-land was crowdedwith wolves, deer, and men. The headlong impetuosity of the chaseand flight had prevented the scent from acting, and all were huddledtogether, for a single instant, in a sort of inextricable confusion.Brief as was this melee, it sufficed to allow of a young hunter'sdriving his arrow through the heart of the buck, and enabled othersamong the Indians to kill several of the wolves; some with arrows,others with knives, etc. No rifle was used, probably from a wish not togive an alarm.
The wolves were quite as much astonished at this unexpected rencontre,as the Indians. They were not a set of hungry and formidable beasts,that famine might urge to any pass of desperation; but a pack hunting,like gentlemen, for their own amusement. Their headlong speed waschecked less by the crowd of men, than by the sight of fire. In theirimpetuosity, it is probable that they would have gone clean through fivehundred men, but no wild beast will willingly encounter fire. Three orfour of the chiefs, aware of this dread, seized brands, and throwingthemselves, without care, into the midst of the pack, the animals wenthowling off, scattering in all directions. Unfortunately for its ownwelfare, one went directly through the circle, plunged into the thicketbeyond, and made its way quite up to the fallen tree, on whichthe bee-hunter and the corporal had taken their stations. This wasaltogether too much for the training, or for the philosophy of Hive.Perceiving a recognized enemy rushing toward him, that noble mastiffmet him in a small cleared spot, open-mouthed, and for a few momentsa fierce combat was the consequence. Dogs and wolves do not fight insilence, and loud were the growls and yells on this occasion. In vaindid le Bourdon endeavor to drag his mastiff off; the animal was on thehigh-road to victory, when it is ever hard to arrest the steps of thecombatant. Almost as a matter of course, some of the chiefs rushedtoward the spot, when the presence of the two spectators first becameknown to them. At the next moment the wolf lay dead at the feet of Hive;and the parties stood gazing at each other, equally taken by surprise,and equally at a loss to know what to do next.
It was perhaps fortunate for the bee-hunter, that neither Crowsfeather,nor any other of the Pottawattamies, was present at this firstrencontre, or he might have fallen on the spot, a victim to theirdisappointed hopes of drinking at a whiskey-spring. The chiefs presentwere strangers to le Bourdon, and they stared at him, in a way to showthat his person was equally unknown to them. But it was necessary, now,to follow the Indians back to their circle, where the whole party sooncollected again, the wolves having gone off on their several routes, toput up some other animal, and run him to death.
During the whole of that excited and tumultuous scene, which wouldprobably now be termed a "stampede" in the Mexican-Americo-English ofthe day, Peter had not stirred. Familiar with such occurrences, he feltthe importance of manifesting an unmoved calm, as a quality most likelyto impress the minds of his companions with a profound sense of hisdignity and self-command. While all around him was in a tumult, he stoodin his tracks, motionless as a statue. Even the fortitude of the worthymissionary was shaken by the wild tempest that momentarily prevailed;and the good man forgot the Jews in his alarm at wolves, forgot themighty past in his apprehensions for the uncomfortable and ill-bodingpresent time. All this, however, was soon over, and order, and quiet,and a dignified calm once more reigned in the circle. Fagots were thrownon the fire; and the two captives, or spectators, stood as near it, theobserved of all observers, as the heat rendered comfortable. It was justthen that Crowsfeather and his companions first recognized the magicianof the whiskey-spring.
Peter saw the discovery of the two spectators with some uneasiness. Thetime had not come when he intended to strike his blow; and he had seensigns among those Pottawattamies, when at the mouth of the river, whichhad told him how little they were disposed to look with favor on one whohad so grievously trifled with their hopes. His first care, therefore,was to interpose his authority and influence between le Bourdon andany project of revenge, which Crowsfeather's young men might be apt todevise, as soon as they, too, laid eyes on the offender. This was donein a characteristic and wily manner.
"Does my brother love honey?" asked the tribeless chief of the leader ofthe Pottawattamies present, who sat near him, gazing on le Bourdon muchas the cat looks upon the mouse, ere it makes it its prey. "Some Injinsare fond of that sweet food: if my brother is one of that sort, I cantell him how to fill his wigwam with honey with little trouble."
At this suggestion, coming from such a source, Crowsfeather could notdo less than express his thanks, and his readiness to hear what furthermight be in reserve for him. Peter then alluded to le Bourdon's art,describing him as being the most skilful bee-hunter of the West. Sogreat was his art in that way, that no Indian had ever yet seen hisequal. It was Peter's intention to make him exercise his craft soon, forthe benefit of the chiefs and warriors present, who might then return totheir village, carrying with them stores of honey to gladden the heartsof their squaws and pappooses. This artifice succeeded; for the Indiansare not expert in taking this article of food, which so much abounds inthe forests, both on account of the difficulty they find in felling thetrees, and on account of the "angle-ing" part of the process, which muchexceeds their skill in mathematics. On the other hand, the last is justthe sort of skill a common white American would be likely to manifest,his readiness and ingenuity in all such processes almost amounting to aninstinct.
Having thus thrown his mantle around le Bourdon for the moment, Peterthen deemed it the better course to finish the historical investigationin which the council had been so much interested, when the strangeinterruption by the wolves occurred. With this view, therefore, herose himself, and recalled the minds of all present to this interestingsubject, by a short speech. This he did, especially to prevent anypremature attack on the person of le Bourdon.
"Brothers," said this mysterious chief, "it is good for Injins to learn.When they learn a thing, they know it; then they may learn another. Itis in this way that the pale-faces do; it makes them wise, and putsit in their power to take away our hunting-grounds. A man that knowsnothing is only a child that has grown up too fast. He may be big--maytake long steps--may be strong enough to carry burdens--may love venisonand buffaloes' humps; but his size is only in the way; his steps he doesnot know where to direct; his burdens he does not know how to choose;and he has to beg food of the squaws, instead of carrying it himself totheir wigwams. He has not learned how to take game. We must all learn.It is right. When we have learned how to take game, and how to strikethe enemy, and how to keep the wigwam filled, then we may learntraditions. Traditions tell us of our fathers. We have many traditions.Some are talked of, even to the squaws. Some are told around the firesof the tribes. Some are known only to the aged chiefs. This is right,too. Injins ought not to say too much, nor too little. They should saywhat is wise--what is best. But my brother, the medicine-man of thepale-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 w
eare Jews, and not Injins, we ought to know it. If we are Injins, and notJews, our brother ought to know it, and not call us by a wrong name. Lethim 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, as faras he was able, and in such language as his knowledge of Indian habitssuggested, 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 men intheir own eyes, but to do them honor. I see that Bear's Meat wishes tosay 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; itis this: I wish to ask the medicine-man if the pale-faces honor and showrespect to the Jews?"
This was rather an awkward question for the missionary, but he was muchtoo honest to dissemble. With a reverence for truth that proceeded fromhis reverence for the Father of all that is true, he replied honestly,though not altogether without betraying how much he regretted thenecessity of answering at all. Both remained standing while the dialogueproceeded; or in parliamentary language, each may be said to have hadthe floor at the same time.
"My brother wishes to know if the pale-faces honor the Jews," returnedthe missionary. "I wish I could answer 'yes'; but the truth forces me tosay 'no.' The pale-faces have traditions that make against the Jews, andthe judgments of God weigh heavy on the children of Israel. But allgood Christians, now, look with friendly eyes on this dispersed andpersecuted people, and wish them well. It will give the white men verygreat pleasure to learn that I have found the lost tribes of Israel inthe red men of America."
"Will my brother tell us WHY this will give his people pleasure? Is itbecause they will be glad to find old enemies, poor, living on narrowhunting-grounds, off which the villages and farms of the pale-facesbegin to push them still nearer to the setting sun; and toward whom thesmall-pox has found a path to go, but none to come from?"
"Nay, nay, Bear's Meat, think not so unkindly of us of the white race!In crossing the great salt lake, and in coming to this quarter of theworld, our fathers were led by the finger of God. We do but obey thewill of the Great Spirit, in pressing forward into this wilderness,directed by his wisdom how to spread the knowledge of his name amongthose who, as yet, have never heard it; or, having heard, have notregarded it. In all this, the wisest men are but babes; not being ableto say whither they are to go, or what is to be done."
"This is strange," returned the unmoved Indian. "It is not so with thered men. Our squaws and pappooses do know the hunting-ground of onetribe from the hunting-ground of another. When they put their feet onstrange hunting-grounds, it is because they INTENDED to go there, and tosteal game. This is sometimes right. If it is right to take the scalp ofan enemy, it is right to get his deer and his buffalo, too. But wenever do this without knowing it. If we did, we should be unfit to go atlarge, unfit to sit in council. This is the first time I have heard thatthe pale-faces are so weak, and they have such feeble minds, too, thatthey do not know where they go."
"My brother does not understand me. No man can see into the future--noman can say what will happen to-morrow. The Great Spirit only can tell.It is for him, then, to guide his children in their wanderings. When ourfathers first came out of their canoes upon the land, on this side ofthe great salt lake, not one among them knew anything of this countrybetween the great lakes of sweet water. They did not know that red menlived here. The Great Spirit did know, and intended then, that I shouldthis night stand up in this council, and speak of his power and of hisname, and do him reverence. It was the Great Spirit that put it into mymind to come among the Indians; and it is the Great Spirit who has ledme, step by step, as warriors move toward the graves of their fathers,to make the discovery, that the Indians are, in truth, the children ofIsrael, a part of his own chosen and once much-favored people. Let meask my friends one or two questions. Do not your traditions say thatyour 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. Hepreferred to let the last take up the dialogue where he now saw fit toabandon it. As the other very well understood the reason of this suddenmovement, he quietly assumed the office of spokesman; the whole affairproceeding much as if there had been no change.
"Our traditions DO tell us that our fathers came from a far-off land,"answered Peter, without rising.
"I thought so!--I thought so!" exclaimed the simple-minded and confidingmissionary. "How wonderful are the ways of God! Yes, my brother, Judeais a far-off land, and your traditions say that your fathers came fromsuch a distance! This, then, is something proved. Do not your traditionssay, that once your tribes were more in favor with the Great Spirit thanthey 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, todrive the Indians from their hunting-grounds. It was when the small-poxhad not found the path to their villages. When fire-water was unknown tothem, and no Indian had ever burned his throat with it."
"Oh, but I speak of a time much more distant than that. Of a time whenyour prophets stood face to face with God, and talked with the Creator.Since that day a great change has come over your people. Then your colorwas light, like that of the fairest and handsomest of the Circassianrace; now, it has become red. When even the color is changed, it is notwonderful that men should no longer be the same in other particulars.Yes; once all the races of men were of the 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 made light,like the pale-faces; some red, like the Injins; some black, like thepale-faces' slaves. To some he gave high noses; to some low noses: tosome flat noses. To the pale-faces he gave eyes of many colors. This isthe reason why they see so many things, and in so many different ways.To the red men he gave eyes of the same color, and they always seethings of the same color. To a red man there is no change. Our fathershave always been red. This we know. If them Jews, of whom my brotherspeaks, were ever white, they have not been our fathers. We tell this tothe medicine-man, that he may know it, too. We do not wish to lead himon a crooked path, or to speak to him with a forked tongue. What we havesaid, is so. Now, the road is open to the wigwam of the pale-faces, andwe wish them safe on their journey home. We Injins have a council tohold around this fire, and will stay longer."
At this plain intimation that their presence was no longer desirable, itbecame necessary for them to depart. The missionary, filled with zeal,was reluctant to go, for, in his eyes, the present communications withthe savages promised him not only the conversion of pagans, but therestoration of the Jews! Nevertheless, he was compelled to comply; andwhen le Bourdon and the corporal took their departure, he turned, andpronounced in solemn tone the Christian benediction on the assembly.The meaning of this last impressive office was understood by most of thechiefs, and they rose as one man, in acknowledgment.
The three white men, on retiring from the circle, held their way towardCastle Meal. Hive followed his master, having come out of the combat butlittle injured. As they got to a point where a last look could be had ofthe bottom-land of the council, each turned to see what was now in thecourse of proceeding. The fire glimmered just enough to show the circletof dark faces, but not an Indian spoke or moved. There they all sat,patiently waiting for the moment when the "strangers" might "withdraw"to a sufficient distance, to permit them to proceed with their ownprivate affairs without fear of interruption.
"This has been to me a most trying scene," observed the missionary,as the three pursued their way toward the garrison. "How hard it is toconvince men against their wishes. Now, I am as certain as a man can be,that every one of th
ese Injins is in fact a Jew; and yet, you have seenhow small has been my success in persuading them to be of the right wayof 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 stand upfor his color, and why shouldn't an Injin? You began wrong, parson. Hadyou just told these chiefs that they were Jews, they might have stoodTHAT, poor creatures, for they hardly know how mankind looks upon aJew; but you went to work to skin them, in a lump, making so many poor,wishy-washy pale-faces of all the red-skins, in a body. You and I mayfancy a white face better than one of any other color; but nature colorsthe eye when it colors the body, and there's not a nigger in America whodoesn't think black the pink of beauty."
"Perhaps it was proceeding too fast to say anything about the change ofcolor, Bourdon. But what can a Christian minister do, unless he tellthe truth? Adam could have been but of one color; and all the races onearth, one excepted, must have changed from that one color."
"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 of eachpartic'lar shade. Hang me if I should like to be persuaded out of mycolor, any more than these Injins. In America, color goes for a greatdeal; and it may count for as much with an Injin as among us whites. No,no, parson; you should have begun with persuading these savages intothe notion that they're Jews; if you could get along with THAT, the restmight be all the easier."
"You speak of the Jews, not as if you considered them a chosen peopleof the Lord, but as a despised and hateful race. This is not right,Bourdon. I know that Christians are thus apt to regard them; but it doesnot tell well for their charity or their knowledge."
"I know very little about them, Parson Amen; not being certain of everhaving seen a Jew in my life. Still, I will own that I have a sort ofgrudge against them, though I can hardly tell you why. Of one thing Ifeel certain--no man breathing should ever persuade me into the notionthat 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: so wasI brought up, and so I shall remain."
"Can either of you tell me WHY you look in this uncharitable light, onso many of your fellow-creatures? It cannot be Christianity, for suchare not its teachings or feelings. Nor is either of you very remarkablefor his observance of the laws of God, as they have been revealed toChristian people. MY heart yearns toward these Injins, who are infidels,instead of entertaining any of the feelings that the corporal has justexpressed."
"I wish there were fewer of them, and that them few were farther fromCastle Meal," put in le Bourdon, with point. "I have known all alongthat Peter meant to have a great council; but will own, now that I haveseen something of it, I do not find it quite as much to my mind as I hadexpected 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, andshaving of heads, and rings in noses and ears, makes some impression;but a campaign or two ag'in' the fellows soon brings all down to onecolor and one uniform, if their naked hides can be so called. I told 'emoff, Bourdon, and reconn'itred 'em pretty well, while they was a makingspeeches; and, in my judgment, we can hold good the garrison ag'in' 'emall, if so be we do not run short of water. Provisions and water is whata body may call fundamentals, in a siege."
"I hope we shall have no need of force--nay, I feel persuaded there willnot be," said Parson Amen. "Peter is our friend; and his commandover these savages is wonderful! Never before have I seen red men socompletely under the control of a chief. Your men at Fort Dearborn,corporal, were scarcely more under the orders of their officers, thanthese red-skins are under the orders of this chief!"
"I will not go to compare rig'lars with Injins, Mr. Parson," answeredthe corporal, a little stiffly. "They be not of the same natur' at all,and ought not to be put on a footing, in any particular. These savagesmay obey their orders, after a fashion of their own; but I should liketo see them manoeuvre under fire. I've fit Injins fourteen times, inmy day, and have never seen a decent line, or a good, honest, manly,stand-up charge, made by the best among 'em, in any field, far or near.Trees and covers is necessary to their constitutions, just as sartain asa deer chased will take to water to throw off the scent. Put 'em up withthe baggonet, and they'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 in revolutiontimes, and sarved his seven years with Washington. The English usedto boast that the Americans wouldn't 'stand up to the rack,' ifthe baggonet was set to work; 'but this was before we got our owntoothpicks,' said the old man. 'As soon as they gave US baggonets, too,there was no want of standing up to the work.' It seems to me, corporal,you overlook the fact that Injins carry no baggonets."
"Every army uses its own weapons. If an Injin prefers his knife and histomahawk to a baggonet, it is no affair of mine. I speak of a chargeas I see it; and the soldier who relies on a tomahawk instead of abaggonet, should stand in his tracks, and give tomahawk play. No, no,Bourdon, seeing is believing. These red-skins can do nothing with ourpeople, when our people is properly regimented, well officered, andthoroughly drilled. They're skeary to new beginners--THAT I mustacknowledge--but beyond that I set them down as nothing remarkable asmilitary 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 seems quitefriendly; then, ag'in, he appears just ready to take all our scalps. Doyou know much of his past history, Mr. Amen?"
"Not as much as I wish I did," the missionary replied. "No one can tellme aught concerning Peter, beyond the fact of his being a sort of aprophet, and a chief of commanding influence. Even his tribe is unknown;a circumstance that points us to the ancient history of the Jews for theexplanation. It is my own opinion that Peter is of the race of Aaron,and that he is designed by Divine Providence to play an importantpart in the great events on which we touch. All that is wanting is, topersuade HIM into this belief, himself. Once persuade a man that he isintended to be something, and your work is half done to your hands. Butthe world is so full of ill-digested and random theories, that truth hasas much as it can do to obtain a sober 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 by reasonor fact, however ridiculous, indeed--and he becomes indisposed toreceive any evidence but that which favors his theory; to see any truthsbut such as he fancies will harmonize with HIS truths; or to allowof any disturbing causes in the great workings of his particularphilosophy. This notion of Parson Amen's concerning the origin ofthe North American savage, did not originate with that simple-mindedenthusiast, by any means. In this way are notions formed and nurtured.The missionary had read somewhat concerning the probability that theAmerican Indians were the lost tribes of Israel; and possessed with theidea, everything he saw was tortured into evidence in support of histheory. There is just as much reason for supposing that any, and all, ofthe heathen savages that are scattered up and down the earth have thisorigin, as to ascribe it to our immediate tribes; but to this truth thegood parson was indifferent, simply because it did not come within thecircle of his particular belief.
Thus, too, was it with the corporal. Unless courage, and other militaryqualities, were manifested precisely in the way in which HE had beentrained, they were not courage and military qualities at all. Everyvirtue has its especial and conventional accessories, according to thisschool of morals; nothing of the sort remaining as it came from above,in the simple abstract qualities of right and wrong. On such feelingsand principles as these, do men get to be dogmatical, narrow-minded, andconceited!
Our three white men pursued their way back to the "garrison," conversingas they went, much in the manner they did
in the dialogue we have justrecorded. Neither Parson Amen nor the corporal seemed to apprehendanything, not-withstanding the extraordinary scene in which one had beenan actor, and of which the other had been a witness. Their wonder andapprehensions, no doubt, were much mitigated by the fact, that it wasunderstood Peter was to meet a large collection of the chiefs in theOpenings, and the minds of all were, more or less, prepared to see somesuch assemblage as had that night got together. The free manner in whichthe mysterious chief led the missionary to the circle, was, of itself,some proof that HE did not desire concealment; and even le Bourdonadmitted, when they came to discuss the details, that this was acircumstance that told materially in favor of the friendliness of hisintentions. Still, the bee-hunter had his doubts; and most sincerely didhe wish that all in Castle Meal, Blossom in particular, were safe withinthe limits 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 was surprisedto learn that Peter was of the number. That gate Peter had not passed,of a certainty; and how else he could quit the palisades was not easilyunderstood. It was possible to climb over them, it is true; but the featwould be attended with so great an exertion, and would be so likelyto lead to a noise which would expose the effort, that all had greatdifficulty in believing a man so dignified and reserved in manner asthis mysterious chief would be apt to resort to such means of quittingthe place.
As for the Chippewa, Gershom reported his return a few minutes before;and the bee-hunter entered, to look for that tried friend, as soon as helearned the fact. He found Pigeonswing laying aside his accoutrements,previously to lying down to take his rest.
"So, Chippewa, YOU have come back, have you?" exclaimed le Bourdon. "Somany of your red-skin brethren are about, that I didn't expect to seeyou 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 so widhunter--no KILL vittles, don't like it nudder."
"This is true enough. Still, so many of your people are about, just now,that I thought it probable you might wish to remain outside with themfor 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 goodly number ofcommon 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 white manwho has seen the thing with his own Pigeonswing made no answer; thoughle Bourdon fancied, from his manner, that he had really something on hismind, and that, too, of importance, which he wished to 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. Home goodplace, 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 keep it inpeace."
"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, soonas can; and bess go ALONE. No good to be trouble wid squaw, when inhurry."
The countenance of le Bourdon changed at this last intimation; thoughthe Indian might not have observed it in the darkness. After a briefpause, the first answered in a very determined way.
"I believe I understand you, Chippewa," he said. "I shall do nothing ofthe sort, however. If the squaws can't go, too, I shall not quit them.Would you desert YOUR squaws because you thought them in trouble?"
"An't your squaw yet. Bess not have squaw at all, when Openin' so fullof 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, goon after anudder; kill HIM, too. Dere he is, inside of palisade, but notudder two. He bot' gone, when I get back to tree. Two good buck as eversee! 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, after allyour care; ha! Pigeonswing."
"Wolf don't touch him--wolf CAN'T touch him. Moccasin been under tree.See him mark. Bess do as I tell you; go home, soon as ever can. Shortpath to Detroit; an't two hundred pale-face mile."
"I see how it is, Pigeonswing; I see how it is, and thank you for thishint, while I honor your good faith to your own people. But I cannot goto Detroit, in the first place, for that town and fort have fallen intothe hands of the British. It might be possible for a canoe to get pastin the night, and to work its way through into Lake Erie, but I cannotquit my friends. If you can put us ALL in the way of getting away fromthis spot, I shall be ready to enter into the scheme. Why can't we allget into the canoe, and go down stream, as soon as another night setsin? Before morning we could be twenty 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 good totry canoe. Catch you in two days--p'raps one. Well, I go to sleep--can'tkeep eye open all night."
Hereupon, Pigeonswing coolly repaired to his skins, lay down, and wassoon fast asleep. The bee-hunter was fain to do the same, the nightbeing now far advanced; but he lay awake a long time, thinking of thehint he had received, and pondering on the nature of the danger whichmenaced the security of the family. At length, sleep asserted its powerover even him, and the place lay in the deep stillness of night.
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