CHAPTER XXI.
She was an only child--her name Ginevra,
The joy, the pride of an indulgent father;
And in her fifteenth year became a bride,
Marrying an only son, Francesco Dona,
Her playmate from her birth, and her first love.
--ROGERS.
During the hunt there was little leisure for reflection on the
seemingly extraordinary manner in which the bee-hunter had pointed
out the spot where the bears were to be found. No one of the Indians
had seen him apply the glass to his eye, for, leading the party, he
had been able to do this unobserved; but, had they witnessed such a
procedure, it would have been as inexplicable as all the rest. It is
true, Crowsfeather and one or two of his companions had taken a look
through that medicine-glass, but it rather contributed to increase
the conjuror's renown, than served to explain any of the marvels he
performed.
Peter was most struck with all that had just occurred. He had often
heard of the skill of those who hunted bees, and had several times
met with individuals who practised the art, but this was the first
occasion on which he had ever been a witness, in his own person, of
the exercise of a craft so wonderful! Had the process been simply
that of catching a bee, filling it with honey, letting it go, and
then following it to its hive, it would have been so simple as to
require no explanation. But Peter was too intelligent, as well as
too observant, not to have seen that a great deal more than this was
necessary. On the supposition that the bee flew TOWARD the forest,
as had been the fact with two of the bees taken that morning, in
what part of that forest was the hunter to look for the bee-tree? It
was the angle that perplexed Peter, as it did all the Indians; for
that angle, to be understood, required a degree of knowledge and
calculation that entirely exceeded all he had ever acquired. Thus is
it with us ever. The powers, and faculties, and principles that are
necessary fully to comprehend all that we see and all that surrounds
us, exist and have been bestowed on man by his beneficent Creator.
Still, it is only by slow degrees that he is to become their master,
acquiring knowledge, step by step, as he has need of its services,
and learns how to use it. Such seems to be the design of Providence,
which is gradually opening to our inquiries the arcana of nature, in
order that we may convert their possession into such uses as will
advance its own wise intentions. Happy are they who feel this truth
in their character of individuals! Thrice happy the nations which
can be made to understand, that the surest progress is that which is
made on the clearest principles, and with the greatest caution! The
notion of setting up anything new in morals, is as fallacious in
theory as it will be found to be dangerous in practice.
It has been said that a sudden change had come over the fierce
purposes of Peter. For some time, the nature, artlessness, truth,
feminine playfulness and kindness, not to say personal beauty of
Margery, had been gradually softening the heart of this stern
savage, as it respected the girl herself. Nothing of a weak nature
was blended with this feeling, which was purely the growth of that
divine principle that is implanted in us all. The quiet, earnest
manner in which the girl had, that day, protested her desire to see
the rights of the red man respected, completed her conquest; and, so
far as the great chief was concerned, secured her safety. It may
seem singular, however, that Peter, with all his influence, was
unable to say that even one that he was so much disposed to favor,
should be spared. By means of his own eloquence, and perseverance,
and deep desire for vengeance, however, he had aroused a spirit
among his followers that was not so easily quelled. On several
occasions, he had found it difficult to prevent the younger and more
impetuous of the chiefs from proceeding at once to secure the scalps
of those who were in their power; and this he had done, only by
promising to increase the number of the victims. How was he then to
lessen that number? and that, too, when circumstances did not seem
likely to throw any more immediately into his power, as he had once
hoped. This council must soon be over, and it would not be in his
power to send the chiefs away without enumerating the scalps of the
pale-faces present among those which were to make up the sum of
their race.
Taking the perplexity produced by the bee-hunter's necromancy, and
adding it to his concern for Margery, Peter found ample subject for
all his reflections. While the young men were dressing their bears,
and making the preparations for a feast, he walked apart, like a man
whose thoughts had little in common with the surrounding scene. Even
the further proceedings of le Bourdon, who had discovered his bee-
tree, had felled it, and was then distributing the honey among the
Indians, could not draw him from his meditations. The great council
of all was to be held that very day--there, on Prairie Round--and it
was imperative on Peter to settle the policy he intended to pursue,
previously to the hour when the fire was to be lighted, and the
chiefs met in final consultation.
In the mean time, le Bourdon, by his distribution of the honey, no
less than by the manner in which he had found it, was winning golden
opinions of those who shared in his bounty. One would think that the
idea of property is implanted in us by nature, since men in all
conditions appear to entertain strong and distinct notions of this
right. Natural it may not be, in the true signification of the term;
but it is a right so interwoven with those that are derived from
nature, and more particularly with our wants, as almost to identify
it with the individual being. It is certain that all we have of
civilization is dependent on a just protection of this right; for,
without the assurance of enjoying his earnings, who would produce
beyond the supply necessary for his own immediate wants? Among the
American savages the rights of property are distinctly recognized,
so far as their habits and resources extend. The hunting-ground
belongs to the tribe, and occasionally the field; but the wigwam,
and the arms, and the skins, both for use and for market, and often
the horses, and all other movables, belong to the individual. So
sacred is this right held to be, that not one of those who stood by,
and saw le Bourdon fell his tree, and who witnessed the operation of
bringing to light its stores of honey, appeared to dream of meddling
with the delicious store, until invited so to do by its lawful
owner. It was this reserve, and this respect for a recognized
principle, that enabled the bee-hunter to purchase a great deal of
popularity, by giving away liberally an article so much prized.
None, indeed, was reserved; Boden seeing the impossibility of
carrying it away. Happy would he have been, most happy, could he
have felt the assurance of being able to get Margery off, without
giving a second thought to any of his effects, whether present or
absent.
As has been intimated, the bee-hunter was fast rising in the favor
of the warriors; particularly of those who had a weakness on the
score of the stomach. This is the first great avenue to the favor of
man--the belly ruling all the other members, the brains included.
All this Peter noted, and was now glad to perceive; for, in addition
to the favor that Margery had found in his eyes, that wary chief had
certain very serious misgivings on the subject of the prudence of
attempting to deal harshly with a medicine man of Boden's calibre.
Touching the whiskey-spring he had been doubtful, from the first;
even Crowsfeather's account of the wonderful glass through which
that chief had looked, and seen men reduced to children and then
converted into giants, had failed to conquer his scepticism; but he
was not altogether proof against what he had that day beheld with
his own eyes. These marvels shook his previous opinion touching the
other matters; and, altogether, the effect was to elevate the bee-
hunter to a height, that it really appeared dangerous to assail.
While Peter was thus shaken with doubts--and that, too, on a point
on which he had hitherto stood as firm as a rock--there was another
in the crowd, who noted the growing favor of le Bourdon with deep
disgust. This man could hardly be termed a chief, though he
possessed a malignant power that was often wielded to the
discomfiture of those who were. He went by the significant
appellation of "The Weasel," a sobriquet that had been bestowed on
him for some supposed resemblance to the little pilfering, prowling
quadruped after which he was thus named. In person, and in physical
qualities generally, this individual was mean and ill-favored; and
squalid habits contributed to render him even less attractive than
he might otherwise have been. He was, moreover, particularly
addicted to intemperance; lying, wallowing like a hog, for days at a
time, whenever his tribe received any of the ample contribution of
fire-water, which it was then more the custom than it is to-day, to
send among the aborigines. A warrior of no renown, a hunter so
indifferent as to compel his squaw and pappooses often to beg for
food in strange lodges, of mean presence, and a drunkard, it may
seem extraordinary that the Weasel should possess any influence amid
so many chiefs renowned for courage, wisdom, deeds in arms, on the
hunt, and for services around the council-fire. It was all due to
his tongue. Ungque, or the Weasel, was eloquent in a high degree--
possessing that variety of his art which most addresses itself to
the passions; and, strange as it may seem, men are oftener and more
easily led by those who do little else than promise, than by those
who actually perform. A lying and fluent tongue becomes a power of
itself, with the masses; subverting reason, looking down justice,
brow-beating truth, and otherwise placing the wrong before the
right. This quality the Weasel possessed in a high degree, and was
ever willing to use, on occasions that seemed most likely to defeat
the wishes of those he hated. Among the last was Peter, whose known
ascendancy in his own particular tribe had been a source of great
envy and uneasiness to this Indian. He had struggled hard to resist
it, and had even dared to speak in favor of the pale-faces, and in
opposition to the plan of cutting them all off, purely with a
disposition to oppose this mysterious stranger. It had been in vain,
however; the current running the other way, and the fiery eloquence
of Peter proving too strong even for him. Now, to his surprise, from
a few words dropped casually, this man ascertained that their
greatest leader was disposed so far to relent, as not to destroy ALL
the pale-faces in his power. Whom, and how many he meant to spare,
Ungque could not tell; but his quick, practised discernment detected
the general disposition, and his ruthless tendency to oppose, caused
him to cast about for the means of resisting this sudden inclination
to show mercy. With the Weasel, the moving principle was ever that
of the demagogue; it was to flatter the mass that he might lead it;
and he had an innate hostility to whatever was frank, manly, and
noble.
The time had now come when the Indians wished to be alone. At this
council it was their intention to come to an important decision; and
even the "young men," unless chiefs, were to be merely distant
spectators. Peter sent for le Bourdon, accordingly, and communicated
his wish that all the whites would return to the castle, whither he
promised to join them about the setting of the sun, or early the
succeeding day.
"One of you, you know--dat my wigwam," said the grim chief, smiling
on Margery with a friendly eye, and shaking hands with the bee-
hunter, who thought his manner less constrained than on former
similar occasions. "Get good supper for ole Injin, young squaw; dat
juss what squaw good for."
Margery laughingly promised to remember his injunction, and went her
way, closely attended by her lover. The corporal followed, armed to
the teeth, and keeping at just such a distance from the young
people, as might enable them to converse without being overheard. As
for the missionary, he was detained a moment by Peter, the others
moving slowly, in order to permit him to come up, ere they had gone
their first mile. Of course, the mysterious chief had not detained
Parson Amen without a motive.
"My brother has told me many curious things," said Peter, when alone
with the missionary, and speaking now in the language of the
Ojebways--"many very curious things. I like to listen to them. Once
he told me how the pale-face young men take their squaws."
"I remember to have told you this. We ask the Great Spirit to bless
our marriages, and the ceremony is commonly performed by a priest.
This is our practice, Peter; though not necessary, I think it good."
"Yes; good alway for pale-face to do pale-face fashion, and for
Injin to do Injin fashion. Don't want medicine-man to get red-skin
squaw. Open wigwam door, and she come in. Dat 'nough. If she don't
wish to come in, can't make her. Squaw go to warrior she likes;
warrior ask squaw he likes. But it is best for pale-face to take his
wife in pale-face fashion. Does not my brother see a young man of
his people, and a young maiden, that he had better bring together
and bless?"
"You must mean Bourdon and Margery," answered the missionary, in
English, after a moment's reflection. "The idea is a new one to me;
for my mind has been much occuoccupied of late, with other and more
important matters; though I now plainly see what you mean!"
"That flower of the Openings would soon fade, if the young bee-
hunter should leave it alone on the prairies. This is the will of
the Great Spirit. He puts it into the minds of the young squaws to
see all things well that the hunters of their fancy do. Why he has
made the young with this kindness for each other, perhaps my brother
knows. He is wise, and has books. The poor Injins have none. They
can see only with the eyes they got from Injins, like themselves.
But one thing they know. What the Great Spirit has commanded, is
good. Injins can't make it any better. They can do it harm, but they
can do it no good. Let my brother bless the couple that the Manitou
has brought together."
"I believe I understand you. Peter, and will think of this. And now
that I must leave you for a little while, let me beg you to think of
this matter of the origin of your tribes, candidly, and with care.
Everything depends on your people's not mistaking the truth, in this
great matter. It is as necessary for a nation to know its duties, as
for a single man. Promise me to think of this, Peter."
"My brother's words have come into my ears--they are good," returned
the Indian, courteously. "We will think of them at the council, if
my brother will bless his young man and young maiden, according to
the law of his people."
"I will promise to do this, Peter; or to urge Bourdon and Margery to
do it, if you will promise to speak to-day, in council, of the
history of your forefathers, and to take into consideration, once
more, the great question of your being Hebrews."
"I will speak as my brother wishes--let him do as I wish. Let him
tell me that I can say to the chiefs before the sun has fallen the
length of my arm, that the young pale-face bee-hunter has taken the
young pale-face squaw into his wigwam."
"I do not understand your motive, Peter; but that which you ask is
wise, and according to God's laws, and it shall be done. Fare you
well, then, for a season. When we again meet, Bourdon and Margery
shall be one, if my persuasions can prevail, and you will have
pressed this matter of the lost tribes, again, home to your people.
Fare you well, Peter; fare you well."
They separated; the Indian with a cold smile of courtesy, but with
his ruthless intentions as respected the missionary in no degree
changed. Boden and Margery alone were exempt from vengeance,
according to his present designs. An unaccountable gentleness of
feeling governed him, as connected with the girl; while
superstition, and the dread of an unknown power, had its full
influence on his determination to spare her lover. There might be
some faint ray of human feeling glimmering among the fierce fires
that so steadily burned in the breast of this savage; but they were
so much eclipsed by the brighter light that gleamed around them, as
to be barely perceptible, even to himself. The result of all these
passions was, a determination in Peter to spare those whom he had
advised the missionary to unite--making that union a mysterious
argument in favor of Margery--and to sacrifice all the rest. The red
American is so much accustomed to this species of ruthless
proceeding, that the anguish he might occasion the very beings to
whom he now wished to be merciful, gave the stern chief very little
concern. Leaving the Indians in the exclusive possession of Prairie
Round, we will return to the rest of the party.
The missionary hastened after his friends as fast as he could go.
Boden and Margery had much to say to each other in that walk, which
had a great deal about it to bring their thoughts within the circle
of their own existence. As has been said, the fire had run through
that region late, and the grasses were still young, offering but
little impediment to their movements. As the day was now near its
heat, le Bourdon led his spirited, but gentle companion, through the
groves, where they had the benefit of a most delicious shade, a
relief that was now getting to be very grateful. Twice had they
stopped to drink at cool, clear springs, in which the water seemed
to vie with the air in transparency. As this is not the general
character of the water of that region, though marked exceptions
exist, Margery insisted that the water was eastern and not western
water.
"Why do we always think the things we had in childhood better than
those we enjoy afterward?" asked Margery, after making one of these
comparisons, somewhat to the disadvantage of the part of the country
in which she then was. "I can scarce ever think of home--what I call
home, and which was so long a home to me--without shedding tears.
Nothing here seems as good of its kind as what I have left behind
me. Do you have the same longings for Pennsylvania that I feel for
the sea-coast and for the rocks about Quincy?"
"Sometimes. When I have been quite alone for two or three months, I
have fancied that an apple, or a potato, or even a glass of cider
that came from the spot where I was born, would be sweeter than all
the honey bees ever gathered in Michigan."
"To me it has always seemed strange, Bourdon, that one of your kind
feelings should ever wish to live alone, at all; yet I have heard
you say that a love of solitude first drew you to your trade."
"It is these strong cases which get a man under, as it might be, and
almost alter his nature. One man will pass his days in hunting deer;
another in catching fish; my taste has been for the bees, and for
such chances with other creatures as may offer. What between
hunting, and hiving, and getting the honey to market, I have very
little time to long for company. But my taste is altering, Margery;
HAS altered."
The girl blushed, but she also smiled, and, moreover, she looked
pleased.
"I am afraid that you are not as much altered as you think," she
answered, laughingly, however. "It may seem so now; but when you
come to LIVE in the settlements again, you will get tired of
crowds."
"Then I will come with you, Margery, into these Openings, and we can
live TOGETHER here, surely, as well, or far better than I can live
here ALONE. You and Gershom's wife have spoiled my housekeeping. I
really did not know, until you came up here, how much a woman can do
in a chiente.
"Why, Bourdon, you have lived long enough in the settlements to know
THAT!"
"That is true; but I look upon the settlements as one thing, and on
the Openings as another. What will do there isn't needed here; and
what will do here won't answer there. But these last few days have
so changed Castle Meal, that I hardly know it myself."
"Perhaps the change is for the worse, and you wish it undone,
Bourdon," observed the girl, in the longing she had to hear an
assurance to the contrary, at the very moment she felt certain that
assurance would be given.
"No, no, Margery. Woman has taken possession of my cabin, and woman
shall now always command there, unless you alter your mind, and
refuse to have me. I shall speak to the missionary to marry us, as
soon as I can get him alone. His mind is running so much on the
Jews, that he has hardly a moment left for us Christians."
The color on Margery's cheek was not lessened by this declaration;
though, to admit the truth, she looked none the less pleased. She
was a warm-hearted and generous girl, and sometimes hesitated about
separating herself and her fortunes from those of Gershom and
Dorothy; but the bee-hunter had persuaded her this would be
unnecessary, though she did accept him for a husband. The point had
been settled between them on previous occasions, and much
conversation had already passed, in that very walk, which was
confined to that interesting subject. But Margery was not now
disposed to say more, and she adroitly improved the hint thrown out
by Boden, to change the discourse.
"It is the strangest notion I ever heard of," she cried, laughing,
"to believe Injins to be Jews!"
"He tells me he is by no means the first who has fancied it. Many
writers have said as much before him, and all he claims is, to have
been among them, and to have seen these Hebrews with his own eyes.
But here he comes, and can answer for himself."
Just as this was said, Parson Amen joined the party, Corporal Flint
closing to the front, as delicacy no longer required him to act as a
rear-guard. The good missionary came up a little heated; and, in
order that he might have time to cool himself, the rate of movement
was slightly reduced. In the mean time the conversation did not the
less proceed.
"We were talking of the lost tribes," said Margery, half smiling as
she spoke, "and of your idea, Mr. Amen, that these Injins are Jews.
It seems strange to me that they should have lost so much of their
ancient ways, and notions, and appearances, if they are really the
people you think."
"Lost! It is rather wonderful that, after the lapse of two thousand
years and more, so much should remain. Whichever way I look, signs
of these people's origin beset me. You have read your Bible,
Margery--which I am sorry to say all on this frontier have not--but
you have read your Bible, and one can make an allusion to you with
some satisfaction. Now, let me ask you if you remember such a thing
as the scape-goat of the ancient Jews. It is to be found in
Leviticus, and is one of those mysterious customs with which that
extraordinary book is full."
"Leviticus is a book I never read but once, for we do not read it in
our New England schools. But I do remember that the Jews were
commanded to let one of two goats go, from which practice it has, I
believe, been called a scape-goat."
"Well," said le Bourdon, simply, "what a thing is 'l'arnin'!' Now,
this is all news to me, though I have heard of 'scape-goats,' and
TALKED of 'scape-goats' a thousand times! There's a meanin' to
everything, I find; and I do not look upon this idea of the lost
tribes as half as strange as I did before I l'arnt this!"
Margery had not fallen in love with the bee-hunter for his biblical
knowledge, else might her greater information have received a rude
shock by this mark of simplicity; but instead of dwelling on this
proof of le Bourdon's want of "schooling," her active mind was more
disposed to push the allusion to scape-goats to some useful
conclusion.
"And what of the goat, Mr. Amen?" she asked; "and how can it belong
to anything here?"
"Why were all those goats turned into the woods and deserts, in the
olden time, Margery? Doubtless to provide food for the ten tribes,
when these should be driven forth by conquerors and hard task-
masters. Time, and climate, and a difference of food, has altered
them, as they have changed the Jews themselves, though they still
retain the cleft hoof, the horns, the habits, and the general
characteristics of the goats of Arabia. Yes; naturalists will find
in the end, that the varieties of the deer of this continent,
particularly the antelope, are nothing but the scape-goats of the
ancient world, altered and perhaps improved by circumstances."
As this was much the highest flight the good missionary had ever yet
taken, not trifling was the astonishment of his young friends
thereat. Touching the Jews, le Bourdon did not pretend to, or in
fact did not possess much knowledge; but when the question was
reduced down to one of venison, or bears' meat, or bisons' humps,
with the exception of the professed hunters and trappers, few knew
more about them all than he did himself. That the deer, or even the
antelopes of America ever had been goats, he did not believe; nor
was he at all backward in letting his dissent to such a theory be
known.
"I'm sorry, Parson Amen, you've brought in the deer," he cried. "Had
you stuck to the Jews, I might have believed all that you fancy, in
this business; but the deer have spoiled all. As for scape-goats,
since Margery seems to agree with you, I suppose you are right about
THEM though my notion of such creatures has been to keep clear of
them, instead of following them up, as you seem to think these
Hebrews have done. But if you are no nearer right in your doctrine
about the Injins than you are about their game, you'll have to
change your religion."
"Do not think that my religion depends on any thread so slight,
Bourdon. A man may be mistaken in interpreting prophecy, and still
be a devout Christian. There are more reasons than you may at first
suppose, for believing in this theory of the gradual change of the
goat into the deer, and especially into the antelope. We do not any
of us believe that Noah had with him, in the ark, all the animals
that are now to be found, but merely the parent-stems, in each
particular case, which would be reducing the number many fold. If
all men came from Adam, Bourdon, why could not all deer come from
goats?"
"Why this matter about men has a good deal puzzled me, Parson, and I
hardly know what answer to give. Still, men are men, wherever you
find them. They may be lighter or darker, taller or shorter, with
hair or wool, and yet you can see they are MEN. Perhaps food, and
climate, and manner of living, may have made all the changes we see
in them; but Lord, Parson, a goat has a beard!"
"What has become of the thousands of scape-goats that the ancient
Hebrews must have turned loose in the wilderness? Answer me that,
Bourdon?"
"You might as well ask me, sir, what has become of the thousands of
Hebrews who turned them loose. I suppose all must be dead a thousand
years ago. Scape-goats are creatures that even Injins would not
like."
"All this is a great mystery, Bourdon--a much greater mystery than
our friend Peter, whom you have so often said was a man so
unaccountable. By the way, he has given me a charge to perform an
office between you and Margery, that I had almost forgotten. From
what he said to me, I rather think it may have some connection with
our safety. We have enemies among these savages, I feel very
certain; though I believe we have also warm friends."
"But what have you in charge that has anything to do with Bourdon
and me?" asked the wondering Margery, who was quick to observe the
connection, though utterly at a loss to comprehend it.
The missionary now called a halt, and finding convenient seats, he
gradually opened the subject with which he had been charged by Peter
to his companions. The reader is probably prepared to learn that
there was no longer any reserve between le Bourdon and Margery on
the subject of their future marriage. The young man had already
pressed an immediate union, as the wisest and safest course to be
pursued. Although the savage American is little addicted to abusing
his power over female captives, and seldom takes into his lodge an
unwilling squaw, the bee-hunter had experienced a good deal of
uneasiness on the score of what might befall his betrothed. Margery
was sufficiently beautiful to attract attention, even in a town; and
more than one fierce-looking warrior had betrayed his admiration
that very day, though it was in a very Indian-like fashion.
Rhapsody, and gallant speeches, and sonnets, form no part of Indian
courtship; but the language of admiration is so very universal,
through the eyes, that it is sufficiently easy of comprehension. It
was possible that some chief, whose band was too formidable to be
opposed, might take it into his head to wish to see a pale-face
squaw in his wigwam; and, while it was not usual to do much violence
to a female's inclinations on such occasions, it was not common to
offer much opposition to those of a powerful warrior. The married
tie, if it could be said to exist at all, however, was much
respected; and it was far less likely that Margery, a wife, would
thus be appropriated, than Margery, unmarried. It is true, cases of
unscrupulous exercise of power are to be found among Indians, as
well as among civilized men, but they are rare, and usually are much
condemned.
The bee-hunter, consequently, was well disposed to second Peter's
project. As for Margery herself, she had half yielded all her
objections to her lover's unaided arguments, and was partly
conquered before this reinforcement was brought into the field
against her. Peter's motive was much canvassed, no one of them all
being able to penetrate it. Boden, however, had his private opinion
on the subject, nor was it so very much out of the way. He fancied
that the mysterious chief was well disposed to Margery, and wished
to put her as far as possible beyond the chances of an Indian
wigwam; marriage being the step of all others most likely to afford
her this protection. Now this was not exactly true, but it was right
enough in the main. Peter's aim was to save the life of the girl;
her gentle attractions, and kind attentions to himself having
wrought this much in her favor; and he believed no means of doing so
as certain as forming a close connection for her with the great
medicine-bee-hunter. Judging of them by himself, he did not think
the Indians would dare to include so great a conjurer in their
schemes of vengeance, and was willing himself that le Bourdon should
escape, provided Margery could go free and unharmed with him. As for
the bee-hunter's powers, he had many misgivings; they might be
dangerous to the red men, and they might not. On this subject, he
was in the painful doubts of ignorance, and had the wide area of
conjecture open before his mind. He saw; but it was "as in a glass,
darkly."
Margery was disposed to delay the ceremony, at least until her
brother and sister might be present. But to this le Bourdon himself
was not much inclined. It had struck him that Gershom was opposed to
an early marriage, most probably because he fancied himself more
secure of the bee-hunter's ingenious and important aid in getting
back to the settlements, so long as this strong inducement existed
to cling to himself, than if he should release his own hold of
Margery, by giving her at once to her lover. Right or wrong, such
was the impression taken up by le Bourdon, and he was glad when the
missionary urged his request to be permitted to pronounce the
nuptial benediction on the spot.
Little ceremony is generally used in an American marriage. In a vast
many cases no clergyman is employed at all; and where there is, most
of the sects have no ring, no giving away, nor any of those
observances which were practised in the churches of old. There
existed no impediment, therefore; and after a decent interval spent
in persuasions, Margery consented to plight her vows to the man of
her heart before they left the spot. She would fain have had Dorothy
present, for woman loves to lean on her own sex on such occasions,
but submitted to the necessity of proceeding at once, as the bee-
hunter and the missionary chose to term it.
A better altar could not have been selected in all that vast region.
It was one of nature's own erecting; and le Bourdon and his pretty
bride placed themselves before it, with feelings suited to the
solemnity of the occasion. The good missionary stood within the
shade of a burr oak in the centre of those park-like Openings, every
object looking fresh, and smiling, and beautiful. The sward was
gieen, and short as that of a well-tended lawn; the flowers were,
like the bride herself, soft, modest, and sweet; while charming
rural vistas stretched through the trees, much as if art had been
summoned in aid of the great mistress who had designed the
landscape. When the parties knelt in prayer--which all present did,
not excepting the worthy corporal--it was on the verdant ground,
with first the branches of the trees, and then the deep, fathomless
vault of heaven for a canopy. In this manner was the marriage
benediction pronounced on the bee-hunter and Margery Waring, in the
venerable Oak Openings. No gothic structure, with its fretted aisles
and clustered columns, could have been onehalf as appropriate for
the union of such a couple.
