CHAPTER XXVIII.
Yes! we have need to bid our hopes repose
On some protecting influence; here confined
Life hath no healing balm for mental woes;
Earth is too narrow for the immortal mind.
Our spirits burn to mingle with the day,
As exiles panting for their native coast;
Yet lured by every wild-flower from their way,
And shrinking from the gulf that must be crossed.
Death hovers round us--in the zephyr's sigh
As in the storm he comes--and lo! Eternity!
--MRS. HEMANS.
It was probably that inherent disposition to pry into unknown
things, which is said to mark her sex, and which was the weakness
assailed by the serpent when he deluded Eve into disobedience, that
now tempted Margery to go beyond the limits which Pigeonswing had
set for her, with a view to explore and ascertain what might be
found without. In doing this, however, she did not neglect a certain
degree of caution, and avoided exposing her person as much as
possible.
Margery had got to the very verge of prudence, so far as the cover
was concerned, when her steps were suddenly arrested by a most
unexpected and disagreeable sight. An Indian was seated on a rock
within twenty feet of the place where she stood. His back was toward
her, but she was certain it could not be Pigeonswing, who had gone
in a contrary direction, while the frame of this savage was much
larger and heavier than that of the Chippewa. His rifle leaned
against the rock, near his arm, and the tomahawk and knife were in
his belt; still Margery thought, so far as she could ascertain, that
he was not in his war-paint, as she knew was the fact with those
whom she had seen at Prairie Round. The attitude and whole
deportment of this stranger, too, struck her as remarkable. Although
our heroine stood watching him for several minutes, almost
breathless with terror and anxiety to learn his object, he never
stirred even a limb in all that time. There he sat, motionless as
the rock on which he had placed himself; a picture of solitude and
reflection.
It was evident, moreover, that this stranger also sought a species
of concealment, as well as the fugitives. It is true he had not
buried himself in a cover of bushes; but his seat was in a hollow of
the ground where no one could have seen him, from the rear or on
either side, at a distance a very little greater than that at which
Margery stood, while his front was guarded from view by a line of
bushes that fringed the margin of the stream. Marius, pondering on
the mutations of fortune, amid the ruins of Carthage, could scarcely
have presented a more striking object than the immovable form of
this stranger. At length the Indian slightly turned his head, when
his observer, to her great surprise, saw the hard, red, but noble
and expressive profile of the well-known features of Peter.
In an instant all Margery's apprehensions vanished, and her hand was
soon lightly laid on the shoulder of her friend. Notwithstanding the
suddenness of this touch, the great chief manifested no alarm. He
turned his head slowly, and when he saw the bright countenance of
the charming bride, his smile met hers in pleased recognition. There
was no start, no exclamation, no appearance of surprise; on the
contrary, Peter seemed to meet his pretty young friend much as a
matter of course, and obviously with great satisfaction.
"How lucky this is, Peter!" exclaimed the breathless Margery.
"Bourdon's mind will now be at rest, for he was afraid you had gone
to join our enemies, Bear's Meat and his party."
"Yes; go and stay wid 'em. So bess. Now dey t'ink Peter all on deir
side. But never forget you, young Blossom."
"I believe you, Peter; for I FEEL as if you are a true friend. How
lucky that we should meet here!"
"No luck at all. Come a purpose. Pigeonswing tell me where you be,
so come here. Juss so."
"Then you expected to find us in this cover! and what have you to
tell us of our enemies?"
"Plenty of DEM. All about mout' of river. All about woods and
Openings here. More dan you count. T'ink of nuttin' but get your
scalp."
"Ah! Peter;--why is it that you red men wish so much to take our
lives?--and why have you destroyed the missionary, a pious
Christian, who wished for nothing but your good?"
Peter bent his eyes to the earth, and for more than a minute he made
no reply. He was much moved, however, as was visible in his
countenance, which plainly denoted that strong emotions were at work
within.
"Blossom, listen to my words," he, at length, answered. "They are
such as a fader would speak to his da'ghter. You my da'ghter. Tell
you so, once; and what Injin say once, he say alway. Poor, and don't
know much, but know how to do as he say he do. Yes, you my da'ghter!
Bear's Meat can't touch YOU, widout he touch ME. Bourdon your
husband; you his squaw. Husband and squaw go togedder, on same path.
Dat right. But, Blossom, listen. Dere is Great Spirit. Injin believe
dat as well as pale-face. See dat is so. Dere is Great WICKED
Spirit, too. Feel dat, too; can't help it. For twenty winter dat
Great Wicked Spirit stay close to my side. He put his hand before
one of my ear, and he put his mout' to tudder. Keep whisper,
whisper, day and night, nebber stop whisper. Tell me to kill pale-
face, wherever I find him. Bess to kill him. If didn't kill pale-
face, pale-face kill Injin. No help for it. Kill ole man, kill young
man; kill squaws, pappoose and all. Smash eggs and break up 'e nest.
Dat what he whisper, day and night, for twenty winters. Whisper so
much, was force to b'lieve him. Bad to have too much whisper of same
t'ing in ear. Den I want scalp. Couldn't have too much scalp. Took
much scalp. All pale-face scalp. Heart grow hard. Great pleasure was
to kill pale-face. Dat feeling last, Blossom, till I see you. Feel
like fader to you, and don't want your scalp. Won'er great deal why
I feel so, but do feel so. Dat my natur'. Still want all udder pale-
face scalp. Want Bourdon scalp, much as any."
A slight exclamation from his companion, which could scarcely be
called a scream, caused the Indian to cease speaking, when the two
looked toward each other, and their eyes met. Margery, however, saw
none of those passing gleams of ferocity which had so often troubled
her in the first few weeks of their acquaintance; in their stead, an
expression of subdued anxiety, and an earnestness of inquiry that
seemed to say how much the chief's heart yearned to know more on
that mighty subject toward which his thoughts had lately been
turned. The mutual glance sufficed to renew the confidence our
heroine was very reluctant to relinquish, while it awakened afresh
all of Peter's parental concern in the welfare of the interesting
young woman at his side.
"But this feeling has left you, Peter, and you no longer wish
Bourdon's scalp," said Margery, hastily. "Now he is my husband, he
is your son."
"Dat good, p'raps," answered the Injin, "but dat not a reason,
nudder, Blossom. You right, too. Don't want Bourdon scalp any
longer. Dat true. But don't want ANY scalp, any more. Heart grow
soft--an't hard, now."
"I wish I could let you understand, Peter, how much I rejoice to
hear this! I have never felt afraid of you, on my own account,
though I will own that I have sometimes feared that the dreadful
cruel stories which are told of your enmity to my color are not
altogether without truth. Now, you tell me you are the white man's
friend, and that you no longer wish to injure him. These are blessed
words, Peter; and humbly do I thank God, through his blessed Son,
that I have lived to hear them!"
"Dat Son make me feel so," returned the Indian, earnestly. "Yes,
juss so. My heart was hard, till medicinepriest tell dat tradition
of Son of Great Spirit--how he die for all tribes and nations, and
ask his fader to do good to dem dat take his life--dat won'erful
tradition, Blossom! Sound like song of wren in my ear--sweeter dan
mocking-bird when he do his bess. Yes, dat won'erful. He true, too;
for medicine-priest ask his Manitou to bless Injin, juss as Injins
lift tomahawk to take his life. I see'd and heard dat, myself. All,
won'erful, won'erful!"
"It was the Spirit of God that enabled poor Amen to do that, Peter;
and it is the Spirit of God that teaches you to see and feel the
beauty of such an act. Without the aid of that Spirit, we are
helpless as children; with it, strong as giants. I do not wonder, at
all, that the good missionary was able to pray for his enemies with
his dying breath. God gave him strength to do so."
Margery spoke as she felt, earnestly, and with emphasis. Her cheeks
flushed with the strength of her feelings, and Peter gazed on her
with a species of reverence and wonder. The beauty of this charming
young woman was pleasing rather than brilliant, depending much on
expression for its power. A heightened color greatly increased it,
and when, as in this instance, the eyes reflected the tints of the
cheeks, one might have journeyed days in older regions, without
finding her equal in personal attractions. Much as he admired her,
however, Peter had now that on his mind which rendered her beauty
but a secondary object with him. His soul had been touched by the
unseen, but omnipresent, power of the Holy Spirit, and his
companion's language and fervor contributed largely in keeping alive
his interest in what he felt.
"Nebber know Injin do dat," said Peter, in a slow, deliberative sort
of way; "no, nebber know Injin do so. Always curse and hate his
enemy, and most when about to lose his scalp. Den, feelin's hottest.
Den, most want to use tomahawk on his enemy. Den, most feel dat he
hate him. But not so wid medicine-priest. Pray for Injin; ask Great
Spirit to do him all 'e good he can; juss as Injin was goin' to
strike. Won'erful--most won'erful DAT, in my eyes. Blossom, you know
Peter. He your fader. He take you, and make you his da'ghter. His
heart is soft to you, Blossom. But, he nuttin' but poor Injin, dough
a great chief. What he know? Pale-face pappoose know more dan Injin
chief. Dat come from Great Spirit too. He wanted it so, and it is
so. Our chiefs say dat Great Spirit love Injin. May be so. T'ink he
love ebbery body; but he can't love Injin as much as he love pale-
face, or he wouldn't let red man know so little. Don't count
wigwams, and canoes, and powder, and lead, as proof of Great
Spirit's love. Pale-face got more of dese dan Injin. Dat I see and
know, and dat I feel. But it no matter. Injin used to be poor, and
don't care. When used to be poor, den used to it. When used to be
rich, den it hard not to be rich. All use. Injin don't care. But it
bad not to know. I'm warrior--I'm hunter--I'm great chief. You
squaw--you young--you know so much as squaw of chief. But you know
most. I feel ashamed to know so little. Want to know more. Want to
know most how 'e Son of Great Spirit die for all tribe, and pray to
his fader to bless 'em dat kill him. Dat what Peter now want most to
know!"
"I wish I was better able to teach you, Peter, from the bottom of my
heart; but the little I do know you shall hear. I would not deny you
for a thousand worlds, for I believe the Holy Spirit has touched
your heart, and that you will become a new man. Christians believe
that all must become new men, who are to live in the other world, in
the presence of God."
"How can dat be? Peter soon be ole--how can ole man grow young
ag'in?"
"The meaning of this is that we must so change in feelings, as no
longer to be the same persons. The things that we loved we must
hate, and the things that we hated, or at least neglected, we must
love. When we feel this change in our hearts, then may we hope that
we love and reverence the Great Spirit, and are living under his
holy care."
Peter listened with the attention of an obedient and respectful
child. If meekness, humility, a wish to learn the truth, and a
devout sentiment toward the Creator, are so many indications of the
"new birth," then might this savage be said to have been truly "born
again." Certainly he was no longer the same man, in a moral point of
view, and of this he was himself entirely conscious. To him the
wonder was what had produced so great and so sudden a change! But
the reply he made to Margery will, of itself, sufficiently express
his views of his own case.
"An Injin like a child," he said, meekly; "nebber know. Even pale-
face squaw know more dan great chief, Nebber feel as do now. Heart
soft as young squaw's. Don't hate any body, no more. Wish well to
all tribe, and color, and nation. Don't hate Bri'sh, don't hate
Yankee; don't hate Cherokee, even. Wish 'em all well. Don't know dat
heart is strong enough to ask Great Spirit to do 'em all good, if
dey want my scalp--p'rap dat too much for poor Injin; but don't want
nobody's scalp, myself. Dat somet'in', I hope, for me."
"It is, indeed, Peter; and if you will get down on your knees, and
humble your thoughts, and pray to God to strengthen you in these
good feelings, he will be sure to do it, and make you, altogether, a
new man."
Peter looked wistfully at Margery, and then turned his eyes toward
the earth. After sitting in a thoughtful mood for some time, he
again regarded his companion, saying, with the simplicity of a
child:
"Don't know how to do dat, Blossom. Hear medicine-priest of pale-
faces pray, sometime, but poor Injin don't know enough to speak to
Great Spirit. You speak to Great Spirit for him. He know your voice,
Blossom, and listen to what you say; but he won't hear Peter, who
has so long hated his enemy. P'raps he angry if he hear Peter
speak."
"In that you are mistaken, Peter. The ears of the Lord are ever open
to our prayers, when put up in sincerity, as I feel certain that
yours will now be. But, after I have told you the meaning of what I
am about to say, I will pray with you and for you. It is best that
you should begin to do this, as soon as you can."
Margery then slowly repeated to Peter the words of the Lord's
prayer. She gave him its history, and explained the meaning of
several of its words that might otherwise have been unintelligible
to him, notwithstanding his tolerable proficiency in English--a
proficiency that had greatly increased in the last few weeks, in
consequence of his constant communications with those who spoke it
habitually. The word "trespasses," in particular, was somewhat
difficult for the Indian to comprehend, but Margery persevered until
she succeeded in giving her scholar tolerably accurate ideas of the
meaning of each term. Then she told the Indian to kneel with her,
and, for the first time in his life, that man of the Openings and
prairies lifted his voice in prayer to the one God. It is true that
Peter had often before mentally asked favors of his Manitou; but the
requests were altogether of a worldly character, and the being
addressed was invested with attributes very different from those
which he now understood to belong to the Lord of heaven and earth.
Nor was the spirit in asking at all the same. We do not wish to be
understood as saying that this Indian was already a full convert to
Christianity, which contains many doctrines of which he had not the
most distant idea; but his heart had undergone the first step in the
great change of conversion, and he was now as humble as he had once
been proud; as meek, as he had formerly been fierce; and he felt
that certain proof of an incipient love of the Creator, in a similar
feeling toward all the works of his hands.
When Peter arose from his knees, after repeating the prayer to
Margery's slow leading, it was with the dependence of a child on the
teaching of its mother. Physically, he was the man he ever had been.
He was as able to endure fatigue, as sinewy in his frame, and as
capable of fasting and of sustaining fatigue, as in his most warlike
days; but, morally, the change was great, indeed. Instead of the
obstinate confidence in himself and his traditions, which had once
so much distinguished this chief, there was substituted an humble
distrust of his own judgment, that rendered him singularly
indisposed to rely on his personal views, in any matter of
conscience, and he was truly become a child in all that pertained to
his religious belief. In good hands, and under more advantageous
circumstances, the moral improvement of Peter would have been great;
but, situated as he was, it could not be said to amount to much more
than a very excellent commencement.
All this time both Peter and Margery had been too intent on their
feelings and employment, to take much heed to the precautions
necessary to their concealment. The sun was setting ere they arose,
and then it was that Peter made the important discovery that they
were observed by two of the young men of the Pottawattamies--scouts
kept out by Bear's Meat to look for the fugitives.
The time was when Peter would not have hesitated to use his rifle on
these unwelcome intruders; but the better spirit that had come over
him, now led him to adopt a very different course. Motioning to the
young men, he ordered them to retire, while he led Margery within
the cover of the bushes. Formerly, Peter would not have scrupled to
resort to deception, in order to throw these two young men on a
wrong scent, and get rid of them in that mode; but now he had a
reluctance to deceive; and, no sooner did they fall back at his
beckoning, than he followed Margery to the camp. The latter was
giving her husband a hurried account of what had just happened, as
Peter joined them.
"Our camp is known!" exclaimed the bee-hunter the instant he beheld
the Indian.
"Juss so. Pottawattamie see squaw, and go and tell his chief. Dat
sartain," answered Peter.
"What is there to be done?--Fight for our lives, or fly?"
"Get in canoe quick as can. It take dem young men half-hour to reach
place where chief be. In dat half-hour we muss go as far as we can.
No good to stay here. Injin come in about one hour."
Le Bourdon knew his position well enough to understand this.
Nevertheless, there were several serious objections to an immediate
flight. Pigeonswing was absent, and the bee-hunter did not like the
notion of leaving him behind, for various reasons. Then it was not
yet dark; and to descend the river by daylight, appeared like
advancing into the jaws of the lion designedly. Nor was le Bourdon
at his ease on the subject of Peter. His sudden appearance, the
insufficient and far from clear account of Margery, and the
extraordinary course advised, served to renew ancient distrusts, and
to render him reluctant to move. But of one thing there could be no
doubt. Their present position must be known, for Margery had seen
the two strange Indians with her own eyes, and a search might soon
be expected. Under all the circumstances, therefore, our hero
reluctantly complied with Margery's reiterated solicitations, and
they all got into the canoes.
"I do not like this movement, Peter," said le Bourdon, as he shoved
his own light craft down the brook, previously to entering the
river. "I hope it may turn out to be better than it looks, and that
you can keep us out of the hands of our enemies. Remember, it is
broad daylight, and that red men are plenty two or three miles below
us."
"Yes, know dat; but muss go. Injin too plenty here, soon. Yes, muss
go. Bourdon, why you can't ask bee, now, what bess t'ing for you to
do, eh? Good time, now, ask bee to tell what he know."
The bee-hunter made no reply, but his pretty wife raised her hand,
involuntarily, as if to implore the Indian to forbear. Peter was a
little bewildered; for as yet, he did not understand that a belief
in necromancy was not exactly compatible with the notions of the
Christian Providence. In his ignorance, how much was he worse off
than the wisest of our race? Will any discreet man who has ever paid
close attention to the power of the somnambule, deny that there is a
mystery about such a person that exceeds all our means of
explanation? That there are degrees in the extent of this power--
that there are false, as well as true somnambules--all who have
attended to the subject must allow; but, a deriding disbeliever in
our own person once, we have since seen that which no laws, known to
us, can explain, and which we are certain is not the subject of
collusion, as we must have been a party to the fraud ourselves, were
any such practised. To deny the evidence of our senses is an act of
greater weakness than to believe that there are mysteries connected
with our moral and physical being that human sagacity has not yet
been able to penetrate; and we repudiate the want of manliness that
shrinks from giving its testimony when once convinced, through an
apprehension of being derided, as weaker than those who withhold
their belief. We KNOW that our own thoughts have been explained and
rendered, by a somnambule, under circumstances that will not admit
of any information by means known to us by other principles; and
whatever others may think on the subject, we are perfectly conscious
that no collusion did or could exist. Why, then, are we to despise
the poor Indian because he still fancied le Bourdon could hold
communication with his bees? We happen to be better informed, and
there may be beings who are aware of the as yet hidden laws of
animal magnetism--hidden as respects ourselves, though known to
them--and who fully comprehend various mistakes and misapprehensions
connected with our impressions on this subject, that escape our
means of detection. It is not surprising, therefore, that Peter, in
his emergency, turned to those bees, in the hope that they might
prove of assistance, or that Margery silently rebuked him for the
weakness, in the manner mentioned.
Although it was still light, the sun was near setting when the
canoes glided into the river. Fortunately for the fugitives, the
banks were densely wooded, and the stream of great width--a little
lake, in fact--and there was not much danger of their being seen
until they got near the mouth; nor then, even, should they once get
within the cover of the wild rice, and of the rushes. There was no
retreat, however; and after paddling some distance, in order to get
beyond the observation of any scout who might approach the place
where they had last been seen, the canoes were brought close
together, and suffered to float before a smart breeze, so as not to
reach the mouth of the stream before the night closed around them.
Everything appeared so tranquil, the solitude was so profound, and
their progress so smooth and uninterrupted, that a certain amount of
confidence revived in the breasts of all, and even the bee-hunter
had hopes of eventual escape.
A conversation now occurred, in which Peter was questioned
concerning the manner in which he had been occupied during his
absence; an absence that had given le Bourdon so much concern. Had
the chief been perfectly explicit, he would have confessed that
fully one-half of his waking thoughts had been occupied in thinking
of the death of the Son of God, of the missionary's prayer for his
enemies, and of the sublime morality connected with such a religion.
It is true Peter did not--could not, indeed--enter very profoundly
into the consideration of these subjects; nor were his notions
either very clear or orthodox; but they were sincere, and the
feelings to which they gave birth were devout. Peter did not touch
on these circumstances, however, confining his explanations to the
purely material part of his proceedings. He had remained with Bear's
Meat, Crowsfeather, and the other leading chiefs, in order to be at
the fountain-head of information, and to interpose his influence
should the pale-faces unhappily fall into the hands of those who
were so industriously looking for them. Nothing had occurred to call
his authority out, but a strange uncertainty seemed to reign among
the warriors, concerning the manner in which their intended victims
eluded their endeavors to overtake them. No trail had been
discovered, scout after scout coming in to report a total want of
success in their investigations inland. This turned the attention of
the Indians still more keenly on the river's mouth, it being certain
that the canoes could not have passed out into the lake previously
to the arrival of the two or three first parties of their young men,
who had been sent so early to watch that particular outlet.
Peter informed le Bourdon that his cache had been discovered,
opened, and rifled of its stores. This was a severe loss to our
hero, and one that would have been keenly felt at any other time;
but just then he had interests so much more important to protect,
that he thought and said little about this mishap. The circumstance
which gave him the most concern was this: Peter stated that Bear's
Meat had directed about a dozen of his young men to keep watch, day
and night, in canoes, near the mouth of the river, lying in wait
among the wild rice, like so many snakes in the grass.
The party was so much interested in this conversation that, almost
insensibly to themselves, they had dropped down to the beginning of
the rushes and rice, and had got rather dangerously near to the
critical point of their passage. As it was still daylight, Peter now
proposed pushing the canoes in among the plants, and there remaining
until it might be safer to move. This was done accordingly, and in a
minute or two all three of the little barks were concealed within
the cover.
The question now was whether the fugitives had been observed, but
suffered to advance, as every foot they descended the stream was
taking them nearer to their foes. Peter did not conceal his
apprehension on this point, since he deemed it improbable that any
reach near the mouth of the Kalamazoo was without its lookouts, at a
moment so interesting. Such was, indeed, the fact, as was afterward
ascertained; but the young men who had seen Peter and Margery had
given the alarm, passing the word where the fugitives were to be
found, and the sentinels along this portion of the stream had
deserted their stations, in order to be in at the capture. By such
delicate and unforeseen means does Providence often protect those
who are the subjects of its especial care, baffling the calculations
of art by its own quiet control of events.
The bee-hunter had a feverish desire to be moving. After remaining
in the cover about half an hour, he proposed that they should get
the canoes into one of the open passages, of which there were many
among the plants, and proceed. Peter had more of the patience of an
Indian, and deemed the hour too early. But le Bourdon was not yet
entirely free from distrust of his companion, and telling Gershom to
follow, he began paddling down one of the passages mentioned. This
decisive step compelled the rest to follow, or to separate from
their companions. They chose to do the first.
Had le Bourdon possessed more self-command, and remained stationary
a little longer, he would, in all probability, have escaped
altogether from a very serious danger that he was now compelled to
run. Although there were many of the open places among the plants,
they did not always communicate with each other, and it became
necessary to force the canoes through little thickets, in order to
get out of one into another, keeping the general direction of
descending the river. It was while effecting the first of these
changes, that the agitation of the tops of the plants caught the eye
of a lookout on the shore. By signals, understood among themselves,
this man communicated his discovery to a canoe that was acting as
one of the guard-boats, thus giving a general alarm along the whole
line of sentinels, as well as to the chiefs down at the hut or at
the mouth of the river. The fierce delight with which this news was
received, after so long a delay, became ungovernable, and presently
yells and cries filled the air, proceeding from both sides of the
stream, as well as from the river itself.
There was not a white person in those canoes who did not conceive
that their party was lost, when this clamor was heard. With Peter it
was different. Instead of admitting of alarm, he turned all his
faculties to use. While le Bourdon himself was nearly in despair,
Peter was listening with his nice ears, to catch the points on the
river whence the yells arose. For the banks he cared nothing. The
danger was from the canoes. By the keenness of his faculties, the
chief ascertained that there were four canoes out, and that they
would have to run the gauntlet between them, or escape would be
hopeless. By the sounds he also became certain that these four
canoes were in the rice, two on each side of the river, and there
they would probably remain, in expectation that the fugitives would
be most likely to come down in the cover.
The decision of Peter was made in a moment. It was now quite dark,
and those who were in canoes within the rice could not well see the
middle of the stream, even by daylight. He determined, therefore, to
take the very centre of the river, giving his directions to that
effect with precision and clearness. The females he ordered to lie
down, each in her own canoe, while their husbands alone were to
remain visible. Peter hoped that, in the darkness, le Bourdon and
Gershom might pass for Indians, on the lookout, and under his own
immediate command.
One very important fact was ascertained by le Bourdon, as soon as
these arrangements were explained and completed. The wind on the
lake was blowing from the south, and of course was favorable to
those who desired to proceed in the opposite direction. This he
communicated to Margery in a low tone, endeavoring to encourage her
by all the means in his power. In return, the young wife muttered a
few encouraging words to her husband. Every measure was understood
between the parties. In the event of a discovery, the canoes were to
bury themselves in the rice, taking different directions, each man
acting for himself. A place of rendezvous was appointed outside, at
a headland known to Gershom and le Bourdon, and signals were agreed
on, by which the latest arrival might know that all was safe there.
These points were settled as the canoes floated slowly down the
stream.
Peter took and kept the lead. The night was star-lit and clear, but
there was no moon. On the water, this made but little difference,
objects not being visible at any material distance. The chief
governed the speed, which was moderate, but regular. At the rate he
was now going, it would require about an hour to carry the canoes
into the lake. But nearly all of that hour must pass in the midst of
enemies!
Half of the period just mentioned elapsed, positively without an
alarm of any sort. By this time, the party was abreast of the spot
where Gershom and le Bourdon had secreted the canoes in the former
adventure at the mouth of the river. On the shores, however, a very
different scene now offered. Then, the fire burned brightly in the
hut, and the savages could be seen by its light. Now, all was not
only dark, but still as death. There was no longer any cry, sound,
alarm, or foot-fall, audible. The very air seemed charged with
uncertainty, and its offspring, apprehension.
As they approached nearer and nearer to what was conceived to be the
most critical point in the passage, the canoes got closer together;
so close, indeed, that le Bourdon and Gershom might communicate in
very guarded tones. The utmost care was taken to avoid making any
noise, since a light and careless blow from a paddle, on the side of
a canoe, would be almost certain, now, to betray them. Margery and
Dorothy could no longer control their feelings, and each rose in her
seat, raising her body so as to bring her head above the gunwale of
the canoe, if a bark canoe can be said to have a gunwale at all.
They even whispered to each other, endeavoring to glean
encouragement by sympathy. At this instant occurred the crisis in
their attempt to escape.
