CHAPTER XXVII.
Thou to whom every faun and satyr flies
For willing service; whether to surprise
The squatted hare, while in half sleeping fits,
Or upward ragged precipices flit
To save poor lambkins from the eagle's maw;
Or by mysterious enticement draw
Bewildered shepherds to their path again;--
--KEATS.
It can easily be understood that the party with the canoes were left
by Peter in a state of great anxiety. The distance between the site
of the hut and their place of concealment was but little more than a
quarter of a mile, and the yell of the savages had often reached
their ears, notwithstanding the cover of the woods. This proximity,
of itself, was fearful; but the uncertainty that le Bourdon felt on
the subject of Peter's real intentions added greatly to his causes
of concern. Of course, he knew but little of the sudden change that
had come over this mysterious chief's feelings; nor is it very
likely that he would have been able to appreciate it, even had the
fact been more fully stated. Our hero had very little acquaintance
with the dogmas of Christianity, and would have, most probably,
deemed it impossible that so great a revolution of purpose could
have been so suddenly wrought in the mind of man, had the true state
of the case been communicated to him. He would have been ready
enough to allow that, with God, nothing is impossible; but might
have been disposed to deny the influence of His Holy Spirit, as
exhibited in this particular form, for a reason no better than the
circumstance that he himself had never been the subject of such a
power. All that Peter had said, therefore, served rather to mystify
him, than to explain, in its true colors, what had actually
occurred. With Margery it was different. Her schooling had been far
better than that of any other of the party, and, while she admired
the manly appearance, and loved the free, generous character of her
husband, she had more than once felt pained at the passing thoughts
of his great indifference to sacred things. This feeling in le
Bourdon, however, was passive rather than active, and gave her a
kind interest in his future welfare, rather than any present pain
through acts and words.
But, as respects their confidence in Peter, this young couple were
much farther apart than in their religious notions. The bee-hunter
had never been without distrust, though his apprehensions had been
occasionally so far quieted as to leave him nearly free of them
altogether; while his wife had felt the utmost confidence in the
chief, from the very commencement of their acquaintance. It would be
useless, perhaps, to attempt to speculate on the causes; but it is
certain that there are secret sources of sympathy that draw
particular individuals toward each other and antipathies that keep
them widely separated. Men shall meet for the first time, and feel
themselves attracted toward each other, like two drops of water, or
repelled, like the corks of an electric machine.
The former had been the case with Peter and Margery. They liked each
other from the first, and kind orifices had soon come to increase
this feeling. The girl had now seen so much of the Indians, as to
regard them much as she did others, or with the discriminations, and
tastes, or distastes, with which we all regard our fellow-creatures;
feeling no particular cause of estrangement. It is true that Margery
would not have been very likely to fall in love with a young Indian,
had one come in her way of a suitable age and character; for her
American notions on the subject of color might have interposed
difficulties; but, apart from the tender sentiments, she could see
good and bad qualities in one of the aborigines, as well as in a
white man. As a consequence of this sympathy between Peter and
Margery, the last had ever felt the utmost confidence in the
protection and friendship of the first. This she did, even while the
struggle was going on in his breast on the subject of including her
in his fell designs, or of making an exception in her favor. It
shows the waywardness of our feelings that Margery had never reposed
confidence in Pigeonswing, who was devotedly the friend of le
Bourdon, and who remained with them for no other reason than a
general wish to be of use. Something BRUSQUE in his manner, which
was much less courteous and polished than that of Peter, had early
rendered her dissatisfied with him, and once estranged, she had
never felt disposed to be on terms of intimacy sufficient to
ascertain his good or bad qualities.
The great change of feeling in Peter was not very clearly understood
by Margery, any more than it was by her husband; though, had her
attention been drawn more strictly to it, she would have best known
how to appreciate it. But this knowledge was not wanting to put HER
perfectly at peace, so far as apprehension of his doing her harm was
concerned. This sense of security she now manifested in a
conversation with le Bourdon, that took place soon after Peter had
left them.
"I wish we weren't in the hands of this red-skin, Margery," said her
husband, a little more off his guard than was his wont.
"Of Peter! You surprise me, Benjamin. I think we could not be in
better hands, since we have got this risk to run with the savages.
If it was Pigeonswing that you feared, I could understand it."
"I will answer for Pigeonswing with my life."
"I am glad to hear you say so, for _I_ do not half like HIM. Perhaps
I am prejudiced against him. The scalp he took down at the mouth of
the river set me against him from the first."
"Do you not know, Margery, that your great friend goes by the name
of 'Scalping Peter'?"
"Yes, I know it very well; but I do not believe he ever took a scalp
in his life."
"Did he ever tell you as much as that?"
"I can't say that he did; but he has never paraded anything of the
sort before my eyes, like Pigeonswing. I do not half like that
Chippewa, dear Bourdon."
"No fear of him, Margery; nor, when I come to think it all over, do
I see why Peter should have brought us here, if he means anything
wrong. The man is so mysterious, that I cannot line him down to his
hole."
"My word for it, Bourdon, that when you DO, it will take you to a
friendly hive. I have put almost as much faith in Peter as in you or
Gershom. You heard what he said about Parson Amen and the corporal."
"And how coolly he took it all," answered her husband, shaking his
head. "It has been a sudden departure for them, and one would think
even an Injin might have felt it more."
Margery's cheek grew pale, and her limbs trembled a little. It was a
minute ere she could pursue the discourse.
"This is terrible, but I will not, cannot believe it," she said.
"I'm sure, Bourdon, we ought to be very thankful to Peter for having
brought us here. Remember how earnestly he listened to the words of
the Saviour."
"If he has brought us here with a good intention, I thank him for
it. But I scarce know what to think. Pigeonswing has given me many a
hint, which I have understood to mean that we ought not to trust
this unknown Injin too much."
"So has he given me some of his hints, though I would sooner trust
Peter than trust him, any time."
"Our lives are in the care of Providence, I see. If we can really
rely on these two Injins, all may be well; for Peter has brought us
to an admirable cover, and he says that the Chippewa prepared it."
The young husband and his wife now landed, and began to examine more
particularly into the state of the swamp, near their place of
concealment. Just at that spot, the bank of the river was higher
than in most of the low land, and was dry, with a soil that
approached sand. This was the place where the few young pines had
grown. The dry ground might have covered four or five acres, and so
many trees having been felled, light and air were admitted, in a way
to render the place comparatively cheerful. The branches of the
felled trees made a sufficient cover in all directions, though the
swamp itself was more than that, almost a defence, toward the
Openings. The bee-hunter found it was possible, though it was
exceedingly difficult, to make his way through it. He ascertained
the fact, however, since it might be important to their future
movements to know it.
In a word, le Bourdon made a complete RECONNAISSANCE of his
position. He cleared a spot for the females, and made a sort of hut,
that would serve as a protection against rain, and in which they all
might sleep at night. There was little doubt that this place must be
occupied for some days, if Peter was acting in good faith, since an
early movement would infallibly lead to detection. Time must be
given to the Indians to precede them, or the great numbers of the
savages would scarce leave a hope of escape. A greater sense of
security succeeded this examination, and these arrangements. The
danger was almost entirely to be apprehended on the side of the
river. A canoe passing up-stream might, indeed, discover their place
of concealment, but it was scarcely to be apprehended that one would
wade through the mud and water of the swamp to approach them in any
other direction.
Under these circumstances, le Bourdon began to feel more security in
their position. Could he now be certain of Peter, his mind would be
comparatively at ease, and he might turn his attention altogether to
making the party comfortable. Margery, who seldom quitted his side,
reasoned with him on the subject of the mysterious chief's good
faith, and by means of her own deep reliance on him, she came at
last to the point of instilling some of her own confidence into the
mind of her husband. From that time he worked at the shelter for the
females, and the other little arrangements their situation rendered
necessary, with greater zest, and with far more attention to the
details. So long as we are in doubt of accomplishing good, we
hesitate about employing our energies; but once let hope revive
within us, in the shape of favorable results, and we become new men,
bracing every nerve to the task, and working with redoubled spirit;
even should it be at the pump of the sinking ship, which, we
believe, ranks the highest among the toils that are inflicted on the
unfortunate.
For three days and nights did le Bourdon and his friends remain on
that dry land of the swamp, without hearing or seeing anything of
either Peter or Pigeonswing. The time was growing long, and the
party anxious; though the sense of security was much increased by
this apparent exemption from danger. Still, uncertainty, and the
wish to ascertain the precise state of things in the Openings, were
gradually getting to be painful, and it was with great satisfaction
that the bee-hunter met his young wife as she came running toward
him, on the morning of the fourth day, to announce that an Indian
was approaching, by wading in the margin of the river, keeping
always in the water so as to leave no trail. Hurrying to a point
whence their visitor might be seen, le Bourdon soon perceived it was
no other than Pigeonswing. In a few minutes this Indian arrived, and
was gladly received by all four of the fugitives, who gathered
around him, eager to hear the news.
"You are welcome, Chippewa," cried le Bourdon, shaking his friend
cordially by the hand. "We were half afraid we might never see you
again. Do you bring us good or evil tidings?"
"Mustn't be squaw, and ask too much question, Bourdon," returned the
red-skin, carefully examining the priming of his rifle, in order to
make sure it was not wet. "Got plenty venison, eh?"
"Not much venison is left, but we have caught a good many fish,
which have helped us along. I have killed a dozen large squirrels,
too, with your bow and arrows, which I find you left in your canoe.
But--"
"Yes, he good bow, dat--might kill hummin'-bird wid dat bow. Fish
good here, eh?" "They are eatable, when a body can get no better.
But NOW, I should think, Pigeonswing, you might give us some of the
news."
"Mustn't be squaw, Bourdon--bad for warrior be squaw. Alway bess be
man, and be patient, like man. What you t'ink, Bourdon? Got him at
last!"
"Got WHAT my good fellow? I see nothing about you, but your arms and
ammunition."
"Got scalp of dat Weasel! Wasn't dat well done? Nebber no young
warrior take more scalp home dan Pigeonswing carry dis time! Got
t'ree; all hid, where Bear's Meat nebber know. Take 'em away, when
he get ready to march."
"Well, well, Chippewa--I suppose it will not be easy to reason you
out of this feelin'--but what has become of the red-skins who burned
my cabin, and who killed the missionary and the corporal?"
"All about--dough must go down river. Look here, Bourdon, some of
dem chief fool enough to t'ink bee carry you off on his wing!"
Here the Chippewa looked his contempt for the credulity and
ignorance of the others, though he did not express it after the
boisterous manner in which a white man of his class might have
indulged. To him le Bourdon was a good fellow, but no conjuror, and
he understood the taking of the bee too well to have any doubts as
to the character of that process. His friend had let him amuse
himself by the hour in looking through his spy-glass, so that the
mind of this one savage was particularly well fortified against the
inroads of the weaknesses that had invaded those of most of the
members of the great council. Consequently, he was amused with the
notion taken up by some of the others, that le Bourdon had been
carried off by bees, though he manifested his amusement in a very
Indian-like fashion.
"So much the better," answered le Bourdon; "and I hope they have
followed to line me down to my hive in the settlements."
"Most on 'em go--yes, dat true. But some don't go. Plenty of Injins
still about dis part of Opening."
"What are we then to do? We shall soon be in want of food. The fish
do not bite as they did, and I have killed all the squirrels I can
find. You know I dare not use a rifle."
"Don't be squaw, Bourdon. When Injin get marry he grows good deal
like squaw at fuss; but dat soon go away. I spose it's just so wid
pale-face. Mustn't be squaw, Bourdon. Dat bad for warrior. What you
do for eat? Why, see dere," pointing to an object that was floating
slowly down the river, the current of which was very sluggish just
in that reach. "Dere as fat buck as ever did see, eh?"
Sure enough the Indian had killed a deer, of which the Openings were
full, and having brought it to the river, he had constructed a raft
of logs, and placing the carcase on it, he had set his game adrift,
taking care to so far precede it as to be in readiness to tow it
into port. When this last operation was performed, it was found that
the Chippewa did not heedlessly vaunt the quality of his prize. What
was more, so accurately had he calculated the time, and the means of
subsistence in the possession of the fugitives, that his supply came
in just as it was most needed. In all this he manifested no more
than the care of an experienced and faithful hunter. Next to the
war-path, the hunting-ground is the great field for an Indian's
glory; deeds and facts so far eclipsing purely intellectual
qualifications with savages, as to throw oratory, though much
esteemed by them, and wisdom at the Council Fires, quite into the
shade. In all this, we find the same propensity among ourselves. The
common mind, ever subject to these impulses, looks rather to such
exploits as address themselves to the senses and the imagination,
than to those qualities which the reason alone can best appreciate;
and in this, ignorance asserts its negative power over all
conditions of life.
Pigeonswing now condescended to enter on such explanations as the
state of the case rendered necessary. His account was sufficiently
clear, and it manifested throughout the sagacity and shrewdness of a
practised hunter and scout. We shall not attempt to give his words,
which would require too much space, but the substance of his story
was briefly this:
As has been alluded to already, the principal chiefs, on a
suggestion of Bear's Meat, had followed the young men down the
Kalamazoo, dividing themselves by a part of their body's crossing
the stream at the first favorable spot. In this way the Indians
proceeded, sweeping the river before them, and examining every place
that seemed capable of concealing a canoe. Runners were kept in
constant motion between the several parties, in order to let the
state of the search be known to all; and, feigning to be one of
these very men, Pigeonswing had held communication with several whom
he purposely met, and to whom he imparted such invented information
as contributed essentially to send the young men forward on a false
scent. In this way, the main body of the savages descended the river
some sixty miles, following its windings, in the first day and a
half. Here Pigeonswing left them, turning his own face up stream, in
order to rejoin his friends. Of Peter he had no knowledge; neither
knowing, nor otherwise learning, what had become of the great chief.
On his way up stream, Pigeonswing met several more Indians; runners
like himself, or as he seemed to be; or scouts kept on the lookout
for the fugitives. He had no difficulty in deceiving these men. None
of them had been of Crowsfeather's party, and he was a stranger to
them all. Ignorant of his real character, they received his
information without distrust, and the orders he pretended to convey
were obeyed by them without the smallest hesitation. In this way,
then, Pigeonswing contrived to send all the scouts he met away from
the river, by telling them that there was reason to think the pale-
faces had abandoned the stream, and that it was the wish of Bear's
Meat that their trail should be looked for in the interior. This was
the false direction that he gave to all, thereby succeeding better
even than he had hoped in clearing the banks of the Kalamazoo of
observers and foes. Nevertheless, many of those whom he knew to be
out, some quite in the rear of the party, and others in its front,
and at no great distance from them, he did not meet; of course he
could not get his false directions to their ears. There were, in
fact, so many of the Indians and so few of the whites, that it was
an easy matter to cover the path with young warriors, any one party
of whom would be strong enough to capture two men and as many women.
Having told the tale of his own doings, Pigeonswing next came to his
proposition for the mode of future proceeding. He proposed that the
family should get into the canoes that very night, and commence its
flight by going down the stream directly toward its foes! This
sounded strangely, but there did not seem to be any alternative. A
march across the peninsula would be too much for the females, and
there was the certainty that their trail would be found. It may seem
strange to those who are unacquainted with the American Indian, and
his habits, to imagine that, in so large an expanse, the signs of
the passage of so small a party might not escape detection; but such
was the case. To one unaccustomed to the vigilance and intelligence
of these savages, it must appear just as probable that the vessel
could be followed through the wastes of the ocean, by means of its
wake, as that the footprints should be so indelible as to furnish
signs that can be traced for days. Such, however, is the fact, and
no one understood it better than the Chippewa. He was also aware
that the country toward Ohio, whither the fugitives would naturally
direct their course, now that the English were in possession of
Detroit, must soon be a sort of battle-ground, to which most of the
warriors of that region would eagerly repair. Under all the
circumstances, therefore, he advised the flight by means of the
river. Le Bourdon reasoned on all he heard, and, still entertaining
some of his latent distrust of Peter, and willing to get beyond his
reach, he soon acquiesced in the proposition, and came fully into
the plan.
It was now necessary to reload the canoes. This was done in the
course of the day, and every arrangement was made, so as to be ready
for a start as soon as the darkness set in. Everybody was glad to
move, though all were aware of the extent of the hazard they ran.
The females, in particular, felt their hearts beat, as each, in her
husband's canoe, issued out of the cover into the open river.
Pigeonswing took the lead, paddling with a slow, but steady sweep of
his arm, and keeping as close as was convenient to one bank. By
adopting this precaution, he effectually concealed the canoes from
the eyes of all on that side of the river, unless they stood
directly on its margin, and had the aid of the shadows to help
conceal them from any who might happen to be on the other. In this
way, then, the party proceeded, passing the site of the hut, and the
grove of Openings around it, undetected. As the river necessarily
flowed through the lowest land, its banks were wooded much of the
way, which afforded great protection to the fugitives; and this so
much the more because these woods often grew in swamps where the
scouts would not be likely to resort.
About midnight the canoes reached the first rift. An hour was lost
in unloading and in reloading the canoes, and in passing the
difficulties at that point. As soon as this was done, the party re-
embarked, and resorted once more to the use of the paddle, in order
to gain a particular sheltered reach of the river previously to the
return of light. This was effected successfully, and the party
landed.
It now appeared that Pigeonswing had chosen another swamp as a place
of concealment for the fugitives to use during the day. These
swamps, through which the river wound its way in short reaches, were
admirably adapted to such purposes. Dark, sombre, and hardly
penetrable on the side of the land, they were little likely to be
entered after a first examination. Nor was it at all probable that
females, in particular, would seek a refuge in such a place. But the
Chippewa had found the means to obviate the natural obstacles of the
low land. There were several spots where the water from the river
set back into the swamp, forming so many little creeks; and into the
largest of one of these he pushed his canoe, the others following
where he led. By resorting to such means, the shelter now obtained
was more complete, perhaps, than that previously left
Pigeonswing forced his light boat up the shallow inlet, until he
reached a bit of dry land, where he brought up, announcing THAT as
the abiding-place during the day. Glad enough was every one to get
on shore, in a spot that promised security, after eight hours of
unremitting paddling and of painful excitement. Notwithstanding the
rifts and carrying-places they had met, and been obliged to
overcome, le Bourdon calculated that they had made as many as thirty
miles in the course of that one night. This was a great movement,
and to all appearances it had been made without detection. As for
the Chippewa, he was quite content, and no sooner was his canoe
secured, than he lighted his pipe and sat down to his enjoyment with
an air of composure and satisfaction.
"And here, you think, Pigeonswing, that we shall be safe during the
day?" demanded le Bourdon, approaching the fallen tree on which the
Indian had taken his seat.
"Sartain--no Pottawattamie come here. Too wet. Don't like wet. An't
duck, or goose--like dry land, juss like squaw. Dis good 'baccy,
Bourdon--hope you got more for friend."
"I have enough for us all, Pigeonswing, and you shall have a full
share. Now, tell me; what will be your next move, and where do you
intend to pass the morrow?"
"Juss like diss. Plenty of swamp, Bourdon, on Kekalamazoo.
[Footnote: This is the true Indian word, though the whites have seen
fit to omit the first syllable.] Run canoe in swamp; den safe
'nough. Injins won't look 'ere, 'cause he don't know whereabout
look. Don't like swamp. Great danger down at mouth of river."
"So it has seemed to me, Chippewa. The Injins must be there in a
strong force, and we shall find it no easy matter to get through
them. How do you propose to do it?" "Go by in night. No udder way.
When can't see, can't see. Dere plenty of rush dere; dat good t'ing,
and, p'raps, dat help us. Rush good cover for canoe. Expec', when we
get down 'ere, to get some scalp, too. Plenty of Pottawattamie about
dat lodge, sartain; and it very hard if don't get some on him scalp.
You mean stop, and dig up cache; eh, Bourdon?"
The cool, quiet manner in which Pigeonswing revealed his own plans,
and inquired into those of his friend, had, at least, the effect to
revive the confidence of le Bourdon. He could not think the danger
very great so long as one so experienced as the Chippewa felt so
much confidence in his own future proceedings; and, after talking a
short time longer with this man, the bee-hunter went to seek
Margery, in order to impart to her a due portion of his own hopes.
The sisters were preparing the breakfast. This was done without the
use of fire, it being too hazardous to permit smoke to rise above
the tops of the trees. Many is the camp that has been discovered by
the smoke, which can be seen at a great distance; and it is a
certain sign of the presence of man, when it ascends in threads, or
such small columns as denote a domestic fire beneath. This is very
different from the clouds that float above the burning prairies, and
which all, at once, impute to their true origin. The danger of using
fire had been so much guarded against by our fugitives, that the
cooking of the party had been done at night; the utmost caution
having been used to prevent the fire itself from being seen, and
care taken to extinguish it long before the return of day. A supply
of cold meat was always on hand, and had it not been, the fugitives
would have known how to live on berries, or, at need, to fast;
anything was preferable, being exposed to certain capture.
As soon as the party had broken their fast, arrangements were made
for recruiting nature by sleep. As for Pigeonswing, Indian-like, he
had eaten enormously, no reasonable quantity of venison sufficing to
appease his appetite; and when he had eaten, he lay down in the
bottom of his canoe and slept. Similar dispositions were made of
their persons by the rest, and half an hour after the meal was
ended, all there were in a profound sleep. No watch was considered
necessary, and none was kept.
The rest of the weary is sweet. Long hours passed, ere any one there
awoke; but no sooner did the Chippewa move than all the rest were
afoot. It was now late in the day, and it was time to think of
taking the meal that was to sustain them through the toil and
fatigues of another arduous night. This was done; the necessary
preparations being made for a start ere the sun had set. The canoes
were then shoved as near the mouth of the inlet as it was safe to
go, while the light remained. Here they stopped, and a consultation
took place, as to the manner of proceeding.
No sooner did the shades of evening close around the place than the
fugitives again put forth. The night was clouded and dark, and so
much of the way now lay through forests that there was little reason
to apprehend detection. The chief causes of delay were the rifts,
and the portages, as had been the case the night before. Luckily, le
Bourdon had been up and down the stream so often as to be a very
tolerable pilot in its windings. He assumed the control, and by
midnight the greatest obstacle to that evening's progress was
overcome. At the approach of day, Pigeonswing pointed out another
creek, in another swamp, where the party found a refuge for the
succeeding day. In this manner four nights were passed on the river,
and as many days in swamps, without discovery. The Chippewa had
nicely calculated his time and his distances, and not the smallest
mistake was made. Each morning a place of shelter was reached in
sufficient season; and each night the fugitives were ready for the
start as the day shut in. In this manner, most of the river was
descended, until a distance that could be easily overcome in a
couple of hours of paddling alone remained between the party and the
mouth of the stream. Extreme caution was now necessary, for signs of
Indians in the neighborhood had been detected at several points in
the course of the last night's work. On one occasion, indeed, the
escape was so narrow as to be worth recording.
It was at a spot where the stream flowed through a forest denser
than common, that Pigeonswing heard voices on the river, ahead of
him. One Indian was calling to another, asking to be set across the
stream in a canoe. It was too late to retreat, and so much
uncertainty existed as to the nearness, or distance, of the danger,
that the Chippewa deemed it safest to bring all three of his canoes
together, and to let them float past the point suspected, or rather
KNOWN, to be occupied by enemies. This was done, with the utmost
care. The plan succeeded, though not without running a very great
risk. The canoes did float past unseen, though there was a minute of
time when le Bourdon fancied by the sounds that savages were talking
to each other, within a hundred feet of his ears. Additional
security, however, was felt in consequence of the circumstance,
since the pursuers must imagine the river below them to be free from
the pursued.
The halt that morning was made earlier than had been the practice
previously. This was done because the remaining distance was so
small that, in continuing to advance, the party would have incurred
the risk of reaching the mouth of the river by daylight. This was to
be avoided on every account, but principally because it was of great
importance to conceal from the savages the direction taken. Were the
chiefs certain that their intended victims were on Lake Michigan, it
would be possible for them to send parties across the isthmus, that
should reach points on Lake Huron, days in advance of the arrival of
the bee-hunter and his friends in the vicinity of Saginaw, or Pointe
aux Barques, for instance, and where the canoes would be almost
certain to pass near the shore, laying their ambushes to accomplish
these ends. It was thought very material, therefore, to conceal the
movements, even after the lake might be reached, though le Bourdon
had not a doubt of his canoes much outsailing those of the savages.
The Indians are not very skilful in the use of sails, while the bee-
hunter knew how to manage a bark canoe in rough water, with unusual
skill. In the common acceptation, he was no sailor; but, in his own
peculiar craft, there was not a man living who could excel him in
dexterity or judgment.
The halting-place that morning was not in a swamp, for none offered
at a suitable distance from the mouth of the river. On the contrary,
it was in a piece of Opening, that was tolerably well garnished with
trees, however, and through which ran a small brook that poured its
tribute into the Kalamazoo. The Chippewa had taken notice of this
brook, which was large enough to receive the canoes, where they
might be concealed in the rushes. A favorable copse, surrounded with
elders, afforded a covered space on shore, and these advantages were
improved for an encampment.
Instead of seeking his rest as usual, on reaching this cover,
Pigeonswing left the party on a scout. He walked up the brook some
distance, in order to conceal his trail, and then struck across the
Opening, taking the direction westward, or toward the river's mouth.
As for le Bourdon and his friends, they ate and slept as usual,
undisturbed; but arose some hours before the close of day.
Thus far, a great work had been accomplished. The canoes had
descended the stream with a success that was only equalled by the
hardihood of the measure, conducted by an intelligence that really
seemed to amount to an instinct Pigeonswing carried a map of the
Kalamazoo in his head, and seemed never at a loss to know where to
find the particular place he sought. It is true, he had roamed
through those Openings ever since he was a child; and an Indian
seldom passes a place susceptible of being made of use to his
habits, that he does not take such heed of its peculiarities, as to
render him the master of all its facilities.
Margery was now full of hope, while the bee-hunter was filled with
apprehensions. She saw all things couleur de rose, for she was
young, happy, and innocent; but he better understood that they were
just approaching the most serious moment of their flight. He knew
the vigilance of the American savage, and could not deceive himself
on the subject of the danger they must run. The mouth of the river
was just the place that, of all others, would be the closest
watched, and to pass it would require not only all their skill and
courage, but somewhat of the fostering care of Providence. It might
be done with success, though the chances were much against
