Part 22 (1/2)
”No, I see you're warlike this morning, and want to see how we are likely to come out of this struggle with your great Canada father.
Counting all round, I think we might muster hard on upon a million of fighting men--good, bad, and indifferent; that is to say, there must be a million of us of proper age to go into the wars.”
Pigeonswing made no answer for near a minute. Both he and the bee-hunter had come to a halt alongside of the bear's meat, and the latter was beginning to prepare his own portion of the load for transportation, while his companion stood thus motionless, lost in thought. Suddenly, Pigeonswing recovered his recollection, and resumed the conversation, by saying:
”What million mean, Bourdon? How many time so'ger at Detroit, and so'ger on lakes?”
”A million is more than the leaves on all the trees in these openings”--le Bourdon's notions were a little exaggerated, perhaps, but this was what he SAID--”yes, more than the leaves on all these oaks, far and near. A million is a countless number, and I suppose would make a row of men as long as from this spot to the sh.o.r.es of the great salt lake, if not farther.”
It is probable that the bee-hunter himself had no very clear notion of the distance of which he spoke, or of the number of men it would actually require to fill the s.p.a.ce he mentioned; but his answer sufficed deeply to impress the imagination of the Indian, who now helped le Bourdon to secure his load to his back, in silence, receiving the same service in return. When the meat of the bear was securely bestowed, each resumed his rifle, and the friends commenced their march in, toward the chiente; conversing, as they went, on the matter which still occupied their minds. When the bee-hunter again took up the history of the creation, it was to speak of our common mother.
”You will remember, Chippewa,” he said, ”that I told you nothing on the subject of any woman. What I have told you, as yet, consarned only the first MAN, who was made out of clay, into whom G.o.d breathed the breath of life.”
”Dat good--make warrior fuss. Juss right. When breat' in him, fit to take scalp, eh?”
”Why, as to that, it is not easy to see whom he was to scalp, seeing that he was quite alone in the world, until it pleased his Creator to give him a woman for a companion.”
”Tell 'bout dat,” returned Pigeonswing, with interest--”tell how he got squaw.”
”Accordin' to the Bible, G.o.d caused this man to fall into a deep sleep, when he took one of his ribs, and out of that he made a squaw for him.
Then he put them both to live together, in a most beautiful garden, in which all things excellent and pleasant was to be found--some such place as these openings, I reckon.”
”Any bee dere?” asked the Indian, quite innocently. ”Plenty honey, eh?”
”That will I answer for! It could hardly be otherwise, when it was the intention to make the first man and first woman perfectly happy. I dare say, Chippewa, if the truth was known, it would be found that bees was a sipping at every flower in that most delightful garden!”
”Why pale-face quit dat garden, eh? Why come here to drive poor Injin 'way from game? Tell me dat, Bourdon, if he can? Why pale-face ever leave DAT garden, when he so han'some, eh?”
”G.o.d turned him out of it, Chippewa--yes, he was turned OUT of it, with shame on his face, for having disobeyed the commandments of his Creator.
Having left the garden, his children have scattered over the face of the earth.”
”So come here to drive off Injin! Well, dat 'e way wid pale-face I Did ever hear of red man comin' to drive off pale-face?”
”I have heard of your red warriors often coming to take our scalps, Chippewa. More or less of this has been done every year, since our people have landed in America. More than that they have not done, for we are too many to be driven very far in, by a few scattering tribes of Injins.”
”T'ink, den, more pale-face dan Injin, eh?” asked the Chippewa, with an interest so manifest that he actually stopped in his semi-trot, in order to put the question. ”More pale-face warrior dan red men?”
”More! Aye, a thousand times more, Chippewa. Where you could show one warrior, we could show a thousand!”
Now, this was not strictly true, perhaps, but it answered the purpose of deeply impressing the Chippewa with the uselessness of Peter's plans, and sustained as it was by his early predilections, it served to keep him on the right side, in the crisis which was approaching. The discourse continued, much in the same strain, until the men got in with their bear's meat, having been preceded some time by the others, with the venison.
It is a little singular that neither the questions, nor the manner of Pigeonswing, awakened any distrust in the bee-hunter. So far from this, the latter regarded all that had pa.s.sed as perfectly natural, and as likely to arise in conversation, in the way of pure speculation, as in any other manner. Pigeonswing intended to be guarded in what he said and did, for, as yet, he had not made up his mind which side he would really espouse, in the event of the great project coming to a head. He had the desire, natural to a red man, to avenge the wrongs committed against his race; but this desire existed in a form a good deal mitigated by his intercourse with the ”Yankees,” and his regard for individuals. It had, nevertheless, strangely occurred to the savage reasoning of this young warrior that possibly some arrangement might be effected, by means of which he should take scalps from the Canadians, while Peter and his other followers were working their will on the Americans. In this confused condition was the mind of the Chippewa, when he and his companion threw down their loads, near the place where the provision of game was usually kept. This was beneath the tree, near the spring and the cook-house, in order that no inconvenience should arise from its proximity to the place where the party dwelt and slept. For a siege, should there be occasion to shut themselves up within the ”garrison,”
the men depended on the pickled pork, and a quant.i.ty of dried meat; of the latter of which the missionary had brought a considerable supply in his own canoe. Among these stores were a few dozen of buffaloes'
or bisons' tongues, a delicacy that would honor the best table in the civilized world, though then so common among the western hunters, as scarce to be deemed food as good as the common salted pork and beef of the settlements.
The evening that followed proved to be one of singular softness and sweetness. The sun went down in a cloudless sky, and gentle airs from the southwest fanned the warm cheeks of Margery, as she sat, resting from the labors of the day, with le Bourdon at her side, speaking of the pleasures of a residence in such a spot. The youth was eloquent, for he felt all that he said, and the maiden was pleased. The young man could expatiate on bees in a way to arrest any one's attention; and Margery delighted to hear him relate his adventures with these little creatures; his successes, losses, and journeys.
”But are you not often lonely, Bourdon, living here in the openings, whole summers at a time, without a living soul to speak to?” demanded Margery, coloring to the eyes, the instant the question was asked, lest it should subject her to an imputation against which her modesty revolted, that of wis.h.i.+ng to draw the discourse to a discussion on the means of preventing this solitude in future.
”I have not been, hitherto,” answered le Bourdon, so frankly as at once to quiet his companion's sensitiveness, ”though I will not answer for the future. Now that I have so many with me, we may make some of them necessary. Mind--I say SOME, not all of my present guests. If I could have my pick, pretty Margery, the present company would give me ALL I can desire, and more too. I should not think of going to Detroit for that companion, since she is to be found so much nearer.”