Part 21 (1/2)
The first night that succeeded the new arrangement pa.s.sed without any disturbance. Pigeonswing did not return, as usual, at sunset, and a little uneasiness was felt on his account; but, as he made his appearance quite early in the morning, this source of concern ceased.
Nor did the Chippewa come in empty-handed; he had killed not only a buck, but he had knocked over a bear in his rambles, besides taking a mess of famously fine trout from a brawling stream at no great distance.
The fish were eaten for breakfast, and immediately after that meal was ended, a party.
”I know no more than he has himself told me. By his account there is to be a great council of red men on the prairie, a few miles from this spot; he is waiting for the appointed day to come, in order to go and make one of the chiefs that will be there. Is not this true, Chippewa?”
”Yes, dat true--what dat council smoke round fire for, eh? You know?”
”No, I do not, and would be right glad to have you tell me, Pigeonswing.
Perhaps the tribe mean to have a meetin' to determine in their own minds which side they ought to take in this war.”
”Not dat nudder. Know well 'nough which side take. Got message and wampum from Canada fadder, and most all Injin up this-a way look for Yankee scalp. Not dat nudder.”
”Then I have no notion what is at the bottom of this council. Peter seems to expect great things from it; that I can see by his way of talking and looking whenever he speaks of it.”
”Peter want to see him very much. Smoke at great many sich council fire.”
”Do you intend to be present at this council on Prairie Round?” asked the bee-hunter, innocently enough. Pigeonswing turned to look at his companion, in a way that seemed to inquire how far he was really the dupe of the mysterious Indian's wiles. Then, suddenly aware of the importance of not betraying all he himself knew, until the proper moment had arrived, he bent his eyes forward again, continuing onward and answering somewhat evasively.
”Don't know,” he replied. ”Hunter nebber tell. Chief want venison, and he must hunt. Just like squaw in pale-face wigwam--work, work--sweep, sweep--cook, cook--never know when work done. So hunter hunt--hunt--hunt.”
”And for that matter, Chippewa, just like squaw in the red man's village, too. Hoe, hoe--dig, dig--carry, carry--so that she never knows when she may sit down to rest.”
”Yes,” returned Pigeonswing, coolly nodding his a.s.sent as he moved steadily forward. ”Dat do right way wid squaw--juss what he good for--juss what he MADE for--work for warrior and cook his dinner.
Pale-face make too much of squaw.”
”Not accordin' to your account of their manner of getting along, Injin.
If the work of our squaws is never done, we can hardly make too much of them. Where does Peter keep HIS squaw?”
”Don't know,” answered the Chippewa. ”n.o.body know. Don't know where his tribe even.”
”This is very extraor'nary, considering the influence the man seems to enjoy. How is it that he has so completely got the ears of all the red men, far and near?”
To this question Pigeonswing gave no answer. His own mind was so far under Peter's control that he did not choose to tell more than might be prudent. He was fully aware of the mysterious chief's princ.i.p.al design, that of destroying the white race altogether, and of restoring the red men to their ancient rights, but several reasons prevented his entering into the plot heart and hand. In the first place, he was friendly to the ”Yankees,” from whom he, personally, had received many favors and no wrongs; then, the tribe, or half-tribe, to which he belonged had been employed, more or less, by the agents of the American government as runners, and in other capacities, ever since the peace of '83; and, lastly, he himself had been left much in different garrisons, where he had not only acquired his English, but a habit of thinking of the Americans as his friends. It might also be added that Pigeonswing, though far less gifted by nature than the mysterious Peter, had formed a truer estimate of the power of the ”Yankees,” and did not believe they were to be annihilated so easily. How it happened that this Indian had come to a conclusion so much safer than that of Peter's, a man of twice his capacity, is more than we can explain; though it was probably owing to the accidental circ.u.mstances of his more intimate a.s.sociations with the whites.
The bee-hunter was by nature a man of observation, a faculty that his habits had both increased and stimulated. Had it not been for the manner in which he was submitting to the influence of Margery, he would long before have seen that in the deportment of the Chippewa which would have awakened his distrust; not that Margery in any way endeavored to blind him to what was pa.s.sing before his face, but that he was fast getting to have eyes only for her. By this time she filled not only his waking, but many of his sleeping thoughts; and when she was not actually before him, charming him with her beauty, enlivening him with her artless gayety, and inspiring him with her innocent humor, he fancied she was there, imagination, perhaps, heightening all those advantages which we have enumerated. When a man is thoroughly in love, he is quite apt to be fit for very little else but to urge his suit. Such, in a certain way, proved to be the case with le Bourdon, who allowed things to pa.s.s unheeded directly before his eyes that previously to his acquaintance with Margery would not only have been observed, but which would have most probably led to some practical results. The conduct of Pigeonswing was among the circ.u.mstances that were thus over-looked by our hero. In point of fact, Peter was slowly but surely working on the mind of the Chippewa, changing all his opinions radically, and teaching him to regard every pale-face as an enemy. The task, in this instance, was not easy; for Pigeonswing, in addition to his general propensities in favor of the ”Yankees,” the result of mere accident, had conceived a real personal regard for le Bourdon, and was very slow to admit any views that tended to his injury. The struggle in the mind of the young warrior was severe; and twenty times was he on the point of warning his friend of the danger which impended over the whole party, when a sense of good faith toward Peter, who held his word to the contrary, prevented his so doing. This conflict of feeling was now constantly active in the breast of the young savage.
Pigeonswing had another source of uneasiness, to which his companions were entirely strangers. While hunting, his keen eyes had detected the presence of warriors in the openings. It is true he had not seen even one, but he knew that the signs he had discovered could not deceive him.
Not only were warriors at hand, but warriors in considerable numbers.
He had found one deserted lair, from which its late occupants could not have departed many hours when it came under his own notice. By means of that attentive sagacity which forms no small portion of the education of an American Indian, Pigeonswing was enabled to ascertain that this party, of itself, numbered seventeen, all of whom were men and warriors.
The first fact was easily enough to be seen, perhaps, there being just seventeen different impressions left in the gra.s.s; but that all these persons were armed men, was learned by Pigeonswing through evidence that would have been overlooked by most persons. By the length of the lairs he was satisfied none but men of full stature had been there; and he even examined sufficiently close to make out the proofs that all but four of these men carried firearms. Strange as it may seem to those who do not know how keen the senses become when whetted by the apprehensions and wants of savage life, Pigeonswing was enabled to discover signs which showed that the excepted were provided with bows and arrows, and spears.
When the bee-hunter and his companion came in sight of the carcase of the bear, which they did shortly after the last remark which we have given in the dialogue recorded, the former exclaimed with a little surprise:
”How's this, Chippewa! You have killed this beast with your bow! Did you not hunt with the rifle yesterday?”
”Bad fire rifle off now-a-day,” answered Pigeonswing, sententiously.
”Make noise--noise no good.”