University of Virginia Library

4. CHAPTER IV.

Simms.

It was noon before Ben and Gershom dared to commence
the process of cutting and splitting the tree, in order to
obtain the honey. Until then, the bees lingered around
their fallen hive, and it would have been dangerous to
venture beyond the smoke and heat, in order to accomplish
the task. It is true, le Bourdon possessed several
secrets, of more or less virtue, to drive off the bees when
disposed to assault him, but no one that was as certain as
a good fire, backed by a dense column of vapour. Various
plants are thought to be so offensive to the insects, that
they avoid even their odour; and the bee-hunter had faith
in one or two of them; but none of the right sort happened
now to be near, and he was obliged to trust, first to a
powerful heat, and next to the vapour of damp wood.

As there were axes, and wedges, and a beetle in the

canoe, and Gershom was as expert with those implements
as a master of fencing is with his foil, to say nothing of the
skill of le Bourdon, the tree was soon laid open, and its
ample stores of sweets exposed. In the course of the afternoon
the honey was deposited in kegs, the kegs were transferred
to the canoe, and the whole deposited in the chienté.
The day had been one of toil, and when our two border-men
sat down near the spring, to take their evening meal,
each felt glad that his work was done.

“I believe this must be the last hive I line, this summer,”
said le Bourdon, while eating his supper. “My
luck has been good so far, but in troublesome times one
had better not be too far from home. I am surprised,
Waring, that you have ventured so far from your family,
while the tidings are so gloomy.”

“That's partly because you don't know me, and partly
because you don't know Dolly, As for leaving hum, with
any body to kear for it, I should like to know who is more
to the purpose than Dolly Waring? I haven't no idee that
even bees would dare get upon her! If they did, they'd
soon get the worst on't. Her tongue is all-powerful, to
say nawthin' of her arm; and if the so'gers can only handle
their muskets as she can handle a broom, there is no need
of new regiments to carry on this war.”

Now, nothing could be more false than this character;
but a drunkard has little regard to what he says.

“I am glad your garrison is so strong,” answered the
bee-hunter, thoughtfully; “but mine is too weak to stay
any longer, out here in the openings. Whiskey Centre, I
intend to break up, and to return to the settlements, before
the red-skins break loose, in earnest. If you will stay, and
lend me a hand to embark the honey and stores, and help
to carry the canoe down the river, you shall be well paid
for your trouble.”

“Waal, I'd about as lief do that, as do anything else.
Good jobs is scarce, out here in the wilderness, and when
a body lights of one, he ought to profit by it. I come up
here thinkin' to meet you, for I heer'n tell from a voyager
that you was a-beeing it, out in the openin's, and there's
nawthin' in natur' that Dolly takes too with a greater relish
than good wild honey. `Try whiskey,' I've told her

a thousand times, `and you'll soon get to like that better
than all the rest of creation;' but not a drop could I ever
get her, or Blossom, to swallow. It's true, that leaves so
much the more for me; but I'm a companionable crittur',
and don't think I've drunk as much as I want, unless I
take it society-like. That's one reason I've taken so
mightily to you, Bourdon; you're not much at a pull, but
you an't downright afeard of a jug, neither.”

The bee-hunter was glad to hear that all the family had
not this man's vice, for he now plainly foresaw that the
accidents of his position must bring him and these strangers
much in contact, for some weeks, at least. Le Bourdon,
though not absolutely `afraid of a jug,' as Whiskey Centre
had expressed it, was decidedly a temperate man; drinking
but seldom, and never to excess. He too well knew
the hazards by which he was surrounded, to indulge in
this way, even had he the taste for it; but he had no taste
that way, one small jug of brandy forming his supply for a
whole season. In these days of exaggeration in all things,
exaggeration in politics, in religion, in temperance, in virtue,
and even in education, by putting `new wine into old
bottles,' that one little jug might have sufficed to give him
a bad name; but five-and-thirty years ago men had more
real independence than they now possess, and were not as
much afraid of that croquemitaine, public opinion, as they
are to-day. To be sure, it was little to le Bourdon's taste
to make a companion of such a person as Whiskey Centre;
but there was no choice. The man was an utter stranger
to him; and the only means he possessed of making sure
that he did not carry off the property that lay so much at
his mercy, was by keeping near him. With many men, the
bee-hunter would have been uneasy at being compelled to
remain alone with them in the woods; for cases in which
one had murdered another, in order to get possession of
the goods, in these remote regions, were talked of among
the other rumours of the borders; but Gershom had that
in his air and manner that rendered Ben confident his delinquencies,
at the most, would scarcely reach bloodshed.
Pilfer he might; but murder was a crime which he did not
appear at all likely to commit.

After supping in company, our two adventurers secured

everything; and, retiring to the chienté, they went to sleep.
No material disturbance occurred, but the night passed in
tranquillity; the bee-hunter merely experiencing some slight
interruption to his slumbers, from the unusual circumstance
of having a companion. One as long accustomed to be
alone as himself, would naturally submit to some such sensation,
our habits getting so completely the mastery, as
often to supplant even nature.

The following morning the bee-hunter commenced his
preparations for a change of residence. Had he not been
discovered, it is probable that the news received from the
Chippewa would not have induced him to abandon his
present position, so early in the season; but he thought
the risk of remaining was too great, under all the circumstances.
The Pottawattamie, in particular, was a subject
of great distrust to him, and he believed it highly possible
some of that old chief's tribe might be after his scalp ere
many suns had risen. Gershom acquiesced in these opinions,
and, as soon as his brain was less under the influence of
liquor than was common with him, he appeared to be quite
happy in having it in his power to form a species of alliance,
offensive and defensive, with a man of his own colour
and origin. Great harmony now prevailed between the
two, Gershom improving vastly in all the better qualities,
the instant his intellect and feelings got to be a little released
from the thraldom of the jug. His own immediate
store of whiskey was quite exhausted, and le Bourdon kept
the place in which his own small stock of brandy was secured,
a profound secret. These glimmerings of returning
intellect, and of reviving principles, are by no means unusual
with the sot, thus proving that “so long as there is
life, there is hope,” for the moral, as well as for the physical
being. What was a little remarkable, Gershom grew
less vulgar, even in his dialect, as he grew more sober,
showing that in all respects he was becoming a greatly
improved person.

The men were several hours in loading the canoe, not
only all the stores and ammunition, but all the honey being
transferred to it. The bee-hunter had managed to conceal
his jug of brandy, reduced by this time to little more than
a quart, within an empty powder-keg, into which he had

crammed a beaver-skin or two, that he had taken, as it
might be incidentally, in the course of his rambles. At
length everything was removed and stowed in its proper
place, on board the capacious canoe, and Gershom expected
an announcement on the part of Ben, of his readiness to
embark. But there still remained one duty to perform.
The bee-hunter had killed a buck only the day before the
opening of our narrative, and shouldering a quarter, he
had left the remainder of the animal suspended from the
branches of a tree, near the place where it had been shot
and cleaned. As venison might be needed before they
could reach the mouth of the river, Ben deemed it advisable
that he and Gershom should go and bring in the remainder
of the carcase. The men started on this undertaking accordingly,
leaving the canoe about two in the afternoon.

The distance between the spot where the deer had been
killed, and the chienté, was about three miles; which was
the reason why the bee-hunter had not brought home the
entire animal, the day he killed it; the American woodsman
often carrying his game great distances in preference
to leaving it any length of time in the forest. In the latter
case there is always danger from beasts of prey, which are
drawn from afar by the scent of blood. Le Bourdon thought
it possible they might now encounter wolves; though he
had left the carcase of the deer so suspended as to place it
beyond the reach of most of the animals of the wilderness.
Each of the men, however, carried a rifle; and Hive was
allowed to accompany them, by an act of grace on the part
of his master.

For the first half hour, nothing occurred out of the usual
course of events. The bee-hunter had been conversing
freely with his companion, who, he rejoiced to find, manifested
far more common sense, not to say good sense, than
he had previously shown; and from whom he was deriving
information touching the number of vessels, and the other
movements on the lakes, that he fancied might be of use
to himself when he started for Detroit. While thus engaged,
and when distant only a hundred rods from the place
where he had left the venison, le Bourdon was suddenly
struck with the movements of the dog. Instead of doubling
on his own tracks, and scenting right and left, as was

the animal's wont, he was now advancing cautiously, with
his head low, seemingly feeling his way with his nose, as
if there was a strong taint in the wind.

“Sartain as my name is Gershom,” exclaimed Waring,
just after he and Ben had come to a halt, in order to look
around them—“yonder is an Injin! The crittur' is seated
at the foot of the large oak—hereaway, more to the right
of the dog, and Hive has struck his scent. The fellow is
asleep, with his rifle across his lap, and can't have much
dread of wolves or bears!”

“I see him,” answered le Bourdon, “and am as much
surprised as grieved to find him there. It is a little remarkable
that I should have so many visiters, just at this
time, on my hunting-ground, when I never had any at all
before yesterday. It gives a body an uncomfortable feeling,
Waring, to live so much in a crowd! Well, well—I'm about
to move, and it will matter little twenty-four hours hence.”

“The chap's a Winnebagoe by his paint,” added Gershom—“but
let's go up and give him a call.”

The bee-hunter assented to this proposal, remarking as
they moved forward, that he did not think the stranger of
the tribe just named; though he admitted that the use of
paint was so general and loose among these warriors, as to
render it difficult to decide.

“The crittur' sleeps soundly!” exclaimed Gershom,
stopping within ten yards of the Indian, to take another
look at him.

“He'll never awake;” put in the bee-hunter, solemnly
—“the man is dead. See; there is blood on the side of
his head, and a rifle-bullet has left its hole there.”

Even while speaking, the bee-hunter advanced, and raising
a sort of shawl, that once had been used as an ornament,
and which had last been thrown carelessly over the
head of its late owner, he exposed the well-known features
of Elksfoot, the Pottawattamie, who had left them little
more than twenty-four hours before! The warrior had
been shot by a rifle-bullet directly through the temple, and
had been scalped. The powder had been taken from his
horn, and the bullets from his pouch; but, beyond this, he
had not been plundered. The body was carefully placed
against a tree, in a sitting attitude, the rifle was laid across

its legs, and there it had been left, in the centre of the
openings, to become food for beasts of prey, and to have
its bones bleached by the snows and the rains!

The bee-hunter shuddered, as he gazed at this fearful
memorial of the violence, against which even a wilderness
could afford no sufficient protection. That Pigeonswing
had slain his late fellow-guest, le Bourdon had no doubt,
and he sickened at the thought. Although he had himself
dreaded a good deal from the hostility of the Pottawattamie,
he could have wished this deed undone. That there
was a jealous distrust of each other between the two Indians
had been sufficiently apparent; but the bee-hunter
could not have imagined that it would so soon lead to results
as terrible as these!

After examining the body, and noting the state of things
around it, the men proceeded, deeply impressed with the
necessity, not only of their speedy removal, but of their
standing by each other in that remote region, now that violence
had so clearly broken out among the tribes. The
bee-hunter had taken a strong liking to the Chippewa, and
he regretted so much the more to think that he had done
this deed. It was true, that such a state of things might
exist as to justify an Indian warrior, agreeably to his own
notions, in taking the life of any one of a hostile tribe; but
le Bourdon wished it had been otherwise. A man of gentle
and peaceable disposition himself, though of a profoundly
enthusiastic temperament in his own peculiar way, he had
ever avoided those scenes of disorder and bloodshed, which
are of so frequent occurrence in the forest and on the prairies;
and this was actually the first instance in which he
had ever beheld a human body that had fallen by human
hands. Gershom had seen more of the peculiar life of the
frontiers than his companion, in consequence of having
lived so closely in contact with the “fire-water;” but even
he was greatly shocked with the suddenness and nature of
the Pottawattamie's end.

No attempt was made to bury the remains of Elksfoot,
inasmuch as our adventurers had no tools fit for such a
purpose, and any merely superficial interment would have
been a sort of invitation to the wolves to dig the body up
again.

“Let him lean ag'in the tree,” said Waring, as they
moved on towards the spot where the carcass of the deer
was left, “and I'll engage nothin' touches him. There's
that about the face of man, Bourdon, that skears the beasts;
and if a body can only muster courage to stare them full
in the eye, one single human can drive before him a whull
pack of wolves.”

“I've heard as much,” returned the bee-hunter, “but
should not like to be the `human' to try the experiment.
That the face of man may have terrors for a beast, I think
likely; but hunger would prove more than a match for such
fear. Yonder is our venison, Waring; safe where I left it.”

The carcase of the deer was divided, and each man
shouldering his burthen, the two returned to the river,
taking care to avoid the path that led by the body of the
dead Indian. As both laboured with much earnestness,
everything was soon ready, and the canoe speedily left the
shore. The Kalamazoo is not in general a swift and turbulent
stream, though it has a sufficient current to carry
away its waters without any appearance of sluggishness.
Of course, this character is not uniform, reaches occurring
in which the placid water is barely seen to move; and
others, again, are found, in which something like rapids,
and even falls, appear. But, on the whole, and more
especially in the part of the stream where it was, the canoe
had little to disturb it, as it glided easily down, impelled
by a light stroke of the paddle.

The bee-hunter did not abandon his station without regret.
He had chosen a most agreeable site for his chienté,
consulting air, shade, water, verdure, and groves, as well
as the chances of obtaining honey. In his regular pursuit
he had been unusually fortunate; and the little pile of kegs
in the centre of his canoe was certainly a grateful sight to
his eyes. The honey gathered this season, moreover, had
proved to be of an unusually delicious flavour, affording
the promise of high prices and ready sales. Still, the bee-hunter
left the place with profound regret. He loved his
calling; he loved solitude to a morbid degree, perhaps;
and he loved the gentle excitement that naturally attended
his “bee-lining,” his discoveries, and his gains. Of all
the pursuits that are more or less dependent on the chances

of the hunt and the field, that of the bee-hunter is of the
most quiet and placid enjoyment. He has the stirring motives
of uncertainty and doubt, without the disturbing qualities
of bustle and fatigue; and, while his exercise is sufficient
for health, and for the pleasures of the open air, it is
seldom of a nature to weary or unnerve. Then the study
of the little animal that is to be watched, and if the reader
will, plundered, is not without a charm for those who delight
in looking into the wonderful arcana of nature. So
great was the interest that le Bourdon sometimes felt in his
little companions, that, on three several occasions that very
summer, be had spared hives after having found them, because
he had ascertained that they were composed of young
bees, and had not yet got sufficiently colonized, to render
a new swarming more than a passing accident. With all
this kindness of feeling towards his victims, Boden had
nothing of the transcendental folly that usually accompanies
the sentimentalism of the exaggerated, but his feelings
and impulses were simple and direct though so often gentle
and humane. He knew that the bee, like all the other inferior
animals of creation, was placed at the disposition of
man, and did not scruple to profit by the power thus beneficently
bestowed, though he exercised it gently, and with
a proper discrimination between its use and its abuse.

Neither of the men toiled much, as the canoe floated
down the stream. Very slight impulses served to give their
buoyant craft a reasonably swift motion, and the current
itself was a material assistant. These circumstances gave
an opportunity for conversation, as the canoe glided onward.

“A'ter all,” suddenly exclaimed Waring, who had been
examining the pile of kegs for some time in silence—“a'ter
all, Bourdon, your trade is an oncommon one! A most
extr'ornary and oncommon callin'!”

“More so, think you, Gershom, than swallowing whiskey,
morning, noon, and night?” answered the bee-hunter, with
a quiet smile.

“Ay, but that's not a rig'lar callin'; only a likin'! Now
a man may have a likin' to a hundred things in which he
don't deal. I set nothin' down as a business, which a man
don't live by.”

“Perhaps you're right, Waring. More die by whiskey
than live by whiskey.”

Whiskey Centre seemed struck with this remark, which
was introduced so aptly, and was uttered so quietly. He
gazed earnestly at his companion for near a minute, ere he
attempted to resume the discourse.

“Blossom has often said as much as this,” he then slowly
rejoined; “and even Dolly has prophesized the same.”

The bee-hunter observed that an impression had been
made, and he thought it wisest to let the reproof already
administered produce its effect, without endeavouring to
add to its power. Waring sat with his chin on his breast,
in deep thought, while his companion, for the first time
since they had met, examined the features and aspect of
the man. At first sight, Whiskey Centre certainly offered
little that was inviting; but a closer study of his countenance
showed that he had the remains of a singularly
handsome man. Vulgar as were his forms of speech, coarse
and forbidding as his face had become, through the indulgence
which was his bane, there were still traces of this
truth. His complexion had once been fair almost to effeminacy,
his cheeks ruddy with health, and his blue eye
bright and full of hope. His hair was light; and all these
pecularities strongly denoted his Saxon origin. It was not so
much Anglo-Saxon as Americo-Saxon, that was to be seen in
the physical outlines and hues of this nearly self-destroyed
being. The heaviness of feature, the ponderousness of
limb and movement, had all long disappeared from his race,
most probably under the influence of climate, and his nose
was prominent and graceful in outline, while his mouth
and chin might have passed for having been under the
chisel of some distinguished sculptor. It was, in truth,
painful to examine that face, steeped as it was in liquor,
and fast losing the impress left by nature. As yet, the
body retained most of its power, the enemy having insidiously
entered the citadel, rather than having actually subdued
it. The bee-hunter sighed as he gazed at his moody
companion, and wondered whether Blossom had aught of
this marvellous comeliness of countenance, without its revolting
accompaniments.

All that afternoon, and the whole of the night that succeeded,

did the canoe float downward with the current.
Occasionally, some slight obstacle to its progress would
present itself; but, on the whole, its advance was steady
and certain. As the river necessarily followed the formation
of the land, it was tortuous and irregular in its course,
though its general direction was towards the north-west,
or west a little northerly. The river-bottoms being much
more heavily `timbered'—to use a woodsman term—than
the higher grounds, there was little of the park-like `openings'
on its immediate banks, though distant glimpses were
had of many a glade and of many a charming grove.

As the canoe moved towards its point of destination, the
conversation did not lag between the bee-hunter and his
companion. Each gave the other a sort of history of his
life; for, now that the jug was exhausted, Gershom could
talk not only rationally, but with clearness and force. Vulgar
he was, and, as such, uninviting and often repulsive;
still his early education partook of that peculiarity of New
England which, if it do not make her children absolutely
all they are apt to believe themselves to be, seldom leaves
them in the darkness of a besotted ignorance. As usually
happens with this particular race, Gershom had acquired a
good deal for a man of his class in life; and this information,
added to native shrewdness, enabled him to maintain
his place in the dialogue with a certain degree of credit.
He had a very lively perception — fancied or real — of all
the advantages of being born in the land of the puritans,
deeming everything that came of the great “Blarney Stone”
superior to everything else of the same nature elsewhere;
and, while much disposed to sneer and rail at all other
parts of the country, just as much indisposed to “take,”
as disposed to “give.” Ben Boden soon detected this weakness
in his companion's character, a weakness so very
general as scarce to need being pointed out to any observant
man, and which is almost inseparable from half-way
intelligence and provincial self-admiration; and Ben
was rather inclined to play on it, whenever Gershom laid
himself a little more open than common, on the subject.
On the whole, however, the communications were amicable;
and the dangers of the wilderness rendering the parties
allies, they went their way with an increasing confidence

in each other's support. Gershom, now that he was thoroughly
sober, could impart much to Ben that was useful;
while Ben knew a great deal that even his companion,
coming as he did from the chosen people, was not sorry to
learn. As has been already intimated, each communicated
to the other, in the course of this long journey on the river,
an outline of his past life.

The history of Gershom Waring was one of every-day
occurrence. He was born of a family in humble circumstances
in Massachusetts, a community in which, however,
none are so very humble as to be beneath the paternal
watchfulness of the state. The common schools had done
their duty by him; while, according to his account of the
matter, his only sister had fallen into the hands of a female
relative, who was enabled to impart an instruction slightly
superior to that which is to be had from the servants of the
public. After a time, the death of this relative, and the
marriage of Gershom, brought the brother and sister together
again, the last still quite young. From this period the
migratory life of the family commenced. Previously to the
establishment of manufactories within her limits, New
England systematically gave forth her increase to the states
west and south of her own territories. A portion of this
increase still migrates, and will probably long continue so
to do; but the tide of young women, which once flowed so
steadily from that region, would now seem to have turned,
and is setting back in a flood of “factory girls.” But the
Warings lived at too early a day to feel the influence of
such a pass of civilization, and went west, almost as a
matter of course. With the commencement of his migratory
life, Gershom began to “dissipate,” as it has got to be
matter of convention to term `drinking.' Fortunately,
Mrs. Waring had no children, thus lessening in a measure
the privations to which those unlucky females were obliged
to submit. When Gershom left his birth-place he had a
sum of money exceeding a thousand dollars in amount, the
united means of himself and sister; but, by the time he
had reached Detroit, it was reduced to less than a hundred.
Several years, however, had been consumed by the way,
the habits growing worse and the money vanishing, as the
family went further and further towards the skirts of society.

At length Gershom attached himself to a sutler,
who was going up to Michillimackinac, with a party of
troops; and finally he left that place to proceed, in a canoe
of his own, to the head of Lake Michigan, where was a
post on the present site of Chicago, which was then known
as Fort Dearborn.

In quitting Mackinac for Chicago, Waring had no very
settled plan. His habits had completely put him out of
favour at the former place; and a certain restlessness urged
him to penetrate still farther into the wilderness. In all
his migrations and wanderings the two devoted females
followed his fortunes; the one because she was his wife,
the other because she was his sister. When the canoe
reached the mouth of the Kalamazoo, a gale of wind drove
it into the river; and finding a deserted cabin, ready built,
to receive him, Gershom landed, and had been busy with
the rifle for the last fortnight, the time he had been on
shore. Hearing from some voyageurs who had gone down
the lake, that a bee-hunter was up the river, he had followed
the stream in its windings until he fell in with le
Bourdon.

Such is an outline of the account which Whiskey Centre
gave of himself. It is true, he said very little of his propensity
to drink, but this his companion was enabled to
conjecture from the context of his narrative, as well as
from what he had seen. It was very evident to the bee-hunter,
that the plans of both parties for the summer were
about to be seriously deranged by the impending hostilities,
and that some decided movement might be rendered necessary,
even for the protection of their lives. This much
he communicated to Gershom, who heard his opinions with
interest, and a concern in behalf of his wife and sister that
at least did some credit to his heart. For the first time in
many months, indeed, Gershom was now perfectly sober,
a circumstance that was solely owing to his having had no
access to liquor for eight-and-forty hours. With the return
of a clear head, came juster notions of the dangers and
difficulties in which he had involved the two self-devoted
women who had accompanied him so far, and who really
seemed ready to follow him in making the circuit of the
earth.

“It's troublesome times,” exclaimed Whiskey Centre,
when his companion had just ended one of his strong and
lucid statements of the embarrassments that might environ
them, ere they could get back to the settled portions of the
country — “it's troublesome times, truly! I see all you
would say, Bourdon, and wonder I ever got my foot so
deep into it, without thinkin' of all, beforehand! The best
on us will make mistakes, hows'ever, and I suppose I've
been called on to make mine, as well as another.”

“My trade speaks for itself,” returned the bee-hunter,
“and any man can see why one who looks for bees must
come where they're to be found; but, I will own, Gershom,
that your speculation lies a little beyond my understanding.
Now, you tell me you have two full barrels of whiskey—”

“Had, Bourdon — had — one of them is pretty nearly
half used, I am afeard.”

“Well had, until you began to be your own customer.
But here you are, squatted at the mouth of the Kalamazoo,
with a barrel and a half of liquor, and nobody but yourself
to drink it! Where the profits are to come from, exceeds
Pennsylvany calculations; perhaps a yankee can tell.”

“You forget the Injins. I met a man at Mackinaw,
who only took out in his canoe one barrel, and he brought
in skins enough to set up a grocery, at Detroit. But I
was on the trail of the soldiers, and meant to make a business
on't, at Fort Dearborn. What between the soldiers
and the red-skins, a man might sell gallons a day, and at
fair prices.”

“It's a sorry business at the best, Whiskey; and now
you're fairly sober, if you'll take my advice you'll remain
so. Why not make up your mind, like a man, and vow
you'll never touch another drop.”

“Maybe I will, when these two barrels is emptied—I've
often thought of doin' some sich matter; and, ag'in and
ag'in, has Dolly and Blossom advised me to fall into the
plan; but it's hard to give up old habits, all at once. If I
could only taper off on a pint a day, for a year or so, I
think I might come round in time. I know as well as you
do, Bourdon, that sobriety is a good thing, and dissipation
a bad thing; but it's hard to give up all, at once.”

Lest the instructed reader should wonder at a man's
using the term “dissipation” in a wilderness, it may be
well to explain that, in common American parlance, “dissipation”
has got to mean “drunkenness.” Perhaps half
of the whole country, if told that a man, or a woman, might
be exceedingly dissipated and never swallow anything
stronger than water, would stoutly deny the justice of applying
the word to such a person. This perversion of the
meaning of a very common term, has probably arisen from
the circumstance that there is very little dissipation in the
country that is not connected with hard drinking. A dissipated
woman is a person almost unknown in America;
or, when the word is applied, it means a very different degree
of misspending of time, from that which is understood
by the use of the same reproach, in older and more sophisticated
states of society. The majority rules in this country,
and with the majority excess usually takes this particular
aspect; refinement having very little connection with the
dissipation of the masses, anywhere.

The excuses of his companion, however, caused le Bourdon
to muse, more than might otherwise have been the
case, on Whiskey Centre's condition. Apart from all considerations
connected with the man's own welfare, and the
happiness of his family, there were those which were inseparable
from the common safety, in the present state of the
country. Boden was a man of much decision and firmness
of character, and he was clear-headed as to causes and
consequences. The practice of living alone had induced
in him the habits of reflection; and the self-reliance produced
by his solitary life, a life of which he was fond almost
to a passion, caused him to decide warily, but to act promptly.
As they descended the river together, therefore, he went
over the whole of Gershom Waring's case and prospects,
with great impartiality and care, and settled in his own
mind what ought to be done, as well as the mode of doing
it. He kept his own counsel, however, discussing all sorts
of subjects that were of interest to men in their situation,
as they floated down the stream, avoiding any recurrence
to this theme, which was possibly of more importance to
them both, just then, than any other that could be presented.