University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V.

Shakspeare.

The canoe did not reach the mouth of the river until
near evening of the third day of its navigation. It was
not so much the distance, though that was considerable,
as it was the obstacles that lay in the way, which brought
the travellers to the end of their journey at so late a period.
As they drew nearer and nearer to the place where Gershom
had left his wife and sister, le Bourdon detected in
his companion signs of an interest in the welfare of the
two last, as well as a certain feverish uneasiness lest all
might not be well with them, that said something in favour
of his heart, whatever might be urged against his prudence
and care in leaving them alone in so exposed a situation.

“I'm afeard a body don't think as much as he ought to
do, when liquor is in him,” said Whiskey Centre, just as
the canoe doubled the last point, and the hut came into
view; “else I never could have left two women by themselves
in so lonesome a place. God be praised! there is
the chienté at any rate; and there's a smoke comin' out
of it, if my eyes don't deceive me! Look, Bourdon, for
I can scarcely see, at all.”

“There is the house; and, as you say, there is certainly
a smoke rising from it.”

“There's comfort in that!” exclaimed the truant husband
and brother, with a sigh that seemed to relieve a very
loaded breast. “Yes, there's comfort in that! If there's
a fire, there must be them that lighted it; and a fire at this
season, too, says that there's somethin' to eat. I should
be sorry, Bourdon, to think I'd left the women folks without
food; though, to own the truth, I don't remember
whether I did or not.”

“The man who drinks, Gershom, has commonly but a
very poor memory.”

“That's true—yes, I'll own that; and I wish it warn't
as true as it is; but reason and strong drink do not travel
far in company—”

Gershom suddenly ceased speaking; dropping his paddle
like one beset by a powerless weakness. The bee-hunter
saw that he was overcome by some unexpected occurrence,
and that the man's feelings were keenly connected with
the cause, whatever that might be. Looking eagerly around
in quest of the explanation, le Bourdon saw a female standing
on a point of land that commanded a view of the river
and its banks for a considerable distance, unequivocally
watching the approach of the canoe.

“There she is,” said Gershom, in a subdued tone—
“that's Dolly; and there she has been, I'll engage, half
the time of my absence, waitin' to get the first glimpse of
my miserable body, as it came back to her. Sich is woman,
Bourdon; and God forgive me, if I have ever forgotten
their natur', when I was bound to remember it. But we
all have our weak moments, at times, and I trust mine will
not be accounted ag'in me more than them of other men.”

“This is a beautiful sight, Gershom, and it almost makes
me your friend! The man for whom a woman can feel so
much concern—that a woman—nay, women; for you tell
me your sister is one of the family—but the man whom
decent women can follow to a place like this, must have
some good p'ints about him. That woman is a weepin';
and it must be for joy at your return.”

“'T would be jist like Dolly to do so—she's done it
before, and would be likely to do so ag'in,” answered Gershom,
nearly choked by the effort he made to speak without
betraying his own emotion. “Put the canoe into the
p'int, and let me land there. I must go up and say a kind
word to poor Dolly; while you can paddle on, and let
Blossom know I'm near at hand.”

The bee-hunter complied in silence, casting curious
glances upward at the woman while doing so, in order to
ascertain what sort of a female Whiskey Centre could possibly
have for a wife. To his surprise, Dorothy Waring
was not only decently, but she was neatly clad, appearing

as if she had studiously attended to her personel appearance,
in the hope of welcoming her wayward and unfortunate
husband back to his forest home. This much le
Bourdon saw, by a hasty glance, as his companion landed,
for a feeling of delicacy prevented him from taking a
longer look at the woman. As Gershom ascended the
bank to meet his wife, le Bourdon paddled on, and landed
just below the grove in which was the chienté. It might
have been his long exclusion from all of the other sex, and
most especially from that portion of it which retains its
better looks, but the being which now met the bee-hunter,
appeared to him to belong to another world, rather than
to that in which he habitually dwelt. As this was Margery
Waring, who was almost uniformly called Blossom, by her
acquaintances, and who is destined to act an important
part in this legend of the “openings,” it may be well to
give a brief description of her age, attire, and personal
appearance, at the moment when she was first seen by le
Bourdon.

In complexion, colour of the hair, and outline of face,
Margery Waring bore a strong family resemblance to her
brother. In spite of exposure, and the reflection of the
sun's rays from the water of the lake, however, her skin
was of a clear, transparent white, such as one might look
for in a drawing-room, but hardly expect to find in a wilderness;
while the tint of her lips, cheeks, and, in a diminished
degree, of her chin and ears, were such as one
who wielded a pencil might long endeavour to catch without
succeeding. Her features had the chiselled outline
which was so remarkable in her brother; while in her
countenance, in addition to the softened expression of her
sex and years, there was nothing to denote any physical or
moral infirmity, to form a drawback to its witchery and
regularity. Her eyes were blue, and her hair as near
golden as human tresses well could be. Exercise, a life
of change, and of dwelling much in the op n air, had given
to this unusually charming girl, not only health, but its
appearance. Still, she was in no respect coarse, or had
anything in the least about her that indicated her being
accustomed to toil, with some slight exception in her hands,
perhaps, which were those of a girl who did not spare herself,

when there was an opportunity to be of use. In this
particular, the vagrant life of her brother had possibly been
of some advantage to her, as it had prevented her being
much employed in the ordinary toil of her condition in
life. Still, Margery Waring had that happy admixture of
delicacy and physical energy, which is, perhaps, oftener to
be met in the American girl of her class, than in the girl
of almost any other nation; and far oftener than in the
young American of her sex, who is placed above the necessity
of labour.

As a stranger approached her, the countenance of this
fair creature expressed both surprise and satisfaction; surprise
that any one should have been met by Gershom, in
such a wilderness, and satisfaction that the stranger proved
to be a white man, and seemingly one who did not drink.

“You are Blossom,” said the bee-hunter, taking the
hand of the half-reluctant girl, in a way so respectful and
friendly, that she could not refuse it, even while she
doubted the propriety of thus receiving an utter stranger
—“the Blossom of whom Gershom Waring speaks so
often, and so affectionately?”

“You are then my brother's friend,” answered Margery,
smiling so sweetly, that le Bourdon gazed on her with delight.
“We are so glad that he has come back! Five
terrible nights have sister and I been here alone, and we
have believed every bush was a red man!”

“That danger is over, now, Blossom; but there is still
an enemy near you that must be overcome.”

“An enemy! There is no one, here, but Dolly and
myself. No one has been near us, since Gershom went
after the bee-hunter, whom we heard was out in the openings.
Are you that bee-hunter?”

“I am, beautiful Blossom; and I tell you there is an
enemy here, in your cabin, that must be looked to.”

“We fear no enemies but the red men, and we have
seen none of them since we reached this river. What is
the name of the enemy you so dread, and where is he to
be found?”

“His name is Whiskey, and he is kept somewhere in
this hut, in casks. Show me the place, that I may destroy
him, before his friend comes to his assistance.”

A gleam of bright intelligence flashed into the face of
the beautiful young creature. First she reddened almost
to scarlet; then her face became pale as death. Compressing
her lips intensely, she stood irresolute—now gazing
at the pleasing, and seemingly well-disposed stranger before
her, now looking earnestly towards the still distant
forms of her brother and sister, which were slowly advancing
in the direction of the cabin.

“Dare you?” Margery at length asked, pointing towards
her brother.

“I dare: he is now quite sober, and may be reasoned
with. For the sake of us all, let us profit by this advantage.”

“He keeps the liquor in two casks that you will find
under the shed, behind the hut.”

This said, the girl covered her face with both her
hands, and sunk on a stool, as if afraid to be a witness of
that which was to follow. As for le Bourdon, he did not
delay a moment, but passed out of the cabin by a second
door, that opened in its rear. There were the two barrels,
and by their side an axe. His first impulse was to dash
in the heads of the casks where they stood; but a moment's
reflection told him that the odour, so near the
cabin, would be unpleasant to every one, and might have
a tendency to exasperate the owner of the liquor. He
cast about him, therefore, for the means of removing the
casks, in order to stave them, at a distance from the
dwelling.

Fortunately, the cabin of Whiskey Centre stood on the
brow of a sharp descent, at the bottom of which ran a
brawling brook. At another moment, le Bourdon would
have thought of saving the barrels; but time pressed, and
he could not delay. Seizing the barrel next to him, he
rolled it without difficulty to the brow of the declivity, and
set it off with a powerful shove of his foot. It was the
half-empty cask, and away it went, the liquor it contained
washing about as it rolled over and over, until hitting a
rock about half-way down the declivity, the hoops gave
way, when the staves went over the little precipice, and
the water of the stream was tumbling through all that remained
of the cask, at the next instant. A slight exclamation

of delight behind him caushed the bee-hunter to
look round, and he saw that Margery was watching his
movements with an absorbed interest. Her smile was one
of joy, not unmingled with terror; and she rather whispered
than said aloud—“The other—the other—that is full—be
quick; there is no time to lose.” The bee-hunter seized
the second cask and rolled it towards the brow of the
rocks. It was not quite as easily handled as the other
barrel, but his strength sufficed, and it was soon bounding
down the declivity after its companion. This second cask
hit the same rock as the first, whence it leaped off the
precipice, and, aided by its greater momentum, it was literally
dashed in pieces at its base.

Not only was this barrel broken into fragments, but its
hoops and staves were carried down the torrent, driving
before them those of the sister cask, until the whole were
swept into the lake, which was some distance from the
cabin.

“That job is well done!” exclaimed le Bourdon, when
the last fragment of the wreck was taken out of sight.
No man will ever turn himself into a beast by means of
that liquor.”

“God be praised!” murmured Margery. “He is so
different, stranger, when he has been drinking, from what
he is when he has not! You have been sent by Providence
to do us this good.”

“I can easily believe that, for it is so with us all. But
you must not call me stranger, sweet Margery; for, now
that you and I have this secret between us, I am a stranger
no longer.”

The girl smiled and blushed; then she seemed anxious
to ask a question. In the mean time they left the shed,
and took seats, in waiting for the arrival of Gershom and
his wife. It was not long ere the last entered; the countenance
of the wife beaming with a satisfaction she made
no effort to conceal. Dolly was not as beautiful as her sister-in-law;
still, she was a comely woman, though one who had
been stricken by sorrow. She was still young, and might
have been in the pride of her good looks, had it not been
for the manner in which she had grieved over the fall of
Gershom. The joy that gladdens a woman's heart, however,

was now illuminating her countenance, and she welcomed
le Bourdon most cordially, as if aware that he had
been of service to her husband. For months she had not
seen Gershom quite himself, until that evening.

“I have told Dolly all our adventur's, Bourdon,” cried
Gershom, as soon as the brief greetings were over, “and
she tells me all's right, hereabouts. Three canoe-loads
of Injins passed along shore, goin' up the lake, she tells
me, this very a'ternoon; but they didn't see the smoke,
the fire bein' out, and must have thought the hut empty;
if, indeed, they knew anythin' of it, at all.”

“The last is the most likely,” remarked Margery; “for
I watched them narrowly from the beeches on the shore,
and there was no pointing, or looking up, as would have
happened had there been any one among them who could
show the others a cabin. Houses an't so plenty, in this
part of the country, that travellers pass without turning
round to look at them. An Injin has curiosity as well as
a white man, though he manages so often to conceal it.”

“Didn't you say, Blossom, that one of the canoes was
much behind the others, and that a warrior in that canoe
did look up towards this grove, as if searching for the
cabin?” asked Dorothy.

“Either it was so, or my fears made it seem so. The
two canoes that passed first were well filled with Injins,
each having eight in it; while the one that came last held
but four warriors. They were a mile apart, and the last
canoe seemed to be trying to overtake the others. I did
think that nothing but their haste prevented the men in
the last canoe from landing; but my fears may have made
that seem so that was not so.”

As the cheek of the charming girl flushed with excitement,
and her face became animated, Margery appeared
marvellously handsome; more so, the bee-hunter fancied,
than any other female he had ever before seen. But her
words impressed him quite as much as her looks; for he
at once saw the importance of such an event, to persons
in their situation. The wind was rising on the lake, and
it was ahead for the canoes; should the savages feel the
necessity of making a harbour, they might return to the
mouth of the Kalamazoo; a step that would endanger all

their lives, in the event of these Indians proving to belong
to those, whom there was now reason to believe were in
British pay. In times of peace, the intercourse between
the whites and the red men was usually amicable, and
seldom led to violence, unless through the effects of
liquor; but, a price being placed on scalps, a very different
state of things might be anticipated, as a consequence
of the hostilities. This was then a matter to be
looked to; and, as evening was approaching, no time was
to be lost.

The shores of Michigan are generally low, nor are harbours
either numerous, or very easy of access. It would
be difficult, indeed, to find, in any other part of the world,
so great an extent of coast, that possesses so little protection
for the navigator, as that of this very lake. There
are a good many rivers, it is true, but usually they have
bars, and are not easy of entrance. This is the reason
why that very convenient glove, the Constitution, which
can be made to fit any hand, has been discovered to have
an extra finger in it, which points out a mode by which
the Federal Government can create ports wherever nature
has forgotten to perform this beneficent office. It is a
little extraordinary that the fingers of so many of the great
“expounders” turn out to be “thumbs,” however; exhibiting
clumsiness, rather than that adroit lightness which
usually characterizes the dexterity of men who are in the
habit of rummaging other people's pockets, for their own
especial purposes. It must be somewhat up-hill work to
persuade any disinterested and clear-headed man, that a
political power to “regulate commerce” goes the length
of making harbours; the one being in a great measure a
moral, while the other is exclusively a physical agency;
any more than it goes the length of making warehouses,
and cranes, and carts, and all the other physical implements
for carrying on trade. Now, what renders all this
“thumbing” of the Constitution so much the more absurd,
is the fact, that the very generous compact interested does
furnish a means, by which the poverty of ports on the
great lakes may be remedied, without making any more
unnecessary rents in the great national glove. Congress
clearly possesses the power to create and maintain a navy,

which includes the power to create all sorts of necessary
physical appliances; and, among others, places of refuge
for that navy, should they be actually needed. As a vessel
of war requires a harbour, and usually a better harbour
than a merchant-vessel, it strikes us the “expounders”
would do well to give this thought a moment's attention.
Behind it will be found the most unanswerable argument
in favour of the light-houses, too.

But, to return to the narrative: The Kalamazoo could
be entered by canoes, though it offered no very available
shelter for a vessel of any size. There was no other shelter
for the savages for several miles to the southward; and,
should the wind increase, of which there were strong indications,
it was not only possible, but highly probable,
that the canoes would return. According to the account
of the females, they had passed only two hours before, and
the breeze had been gradually gathering strength ever
since. It was not unlikely, indeed, that the attention paid
to the river by the warrior in the last canoe, may have had
reference to this very state of the weather; and his haste
to overtake his companions been connected with a desire
to induce them to seek a shelter. All this presented itself
to the bee-hunter's mind, at once; and it was discussed
between the members of the party, freely, and not without
some grave apprehensions.

There was one elevated point—elevated comparatively,
if not in a very positive sense—whence the eye could
command a considerable distance along the lake shore.
Thither Margery now hastened to look after the canoes.
Boden accompanied her; and together they proceeded,
side by side, with a new-born, but lively and increasing
confidence, that was all the greater, in consequence of
their possessing a common secret.

“Brother must be much better than he was,” the girl
observed, as they hurried on, “for he has not once been
into the shed to look at the barrels! Before he went into
the openings, he never entered the house without drinking;
and, sometimes, he would raise the cup to his mouth as
often as three times in the first half-hour. Now, he does
not seem even to think of it!”

“It may be well that he can find nothing to put into his

cup, should he fall into his old ways. One is never sure
of a man of such habits, until he is placed entirely out
of harm's way.”

“Gershom is such a different being when he has not
been drinking!” rejoined the sister, in a touching manner.
“We love him, and strive to do all we can to keep him
up, but it is hard.”

“I am surprised that you should have come into this
wilderness with any one of bad habits!”

“Why not? He is my brother, and I have no parents
—he is all to me: and what would become of Dorothy if
I were to quit her, too! She has lost most of her friends,
since Gershom fell into these ways, and it would quite
break her heart, did I desert her.”

“All this speaks well for you, pretty Margery, but it is
not the less surprising—ah, there is my canoe, in plain
sight of all who enter the river; that must be concealed,
Injins or no Injins.”

“It is only a step further to the place where we can get
a look-out. Just there, beneath the burr oak. Hours and
hours have I sat on that spot, with my sewing, while Gershom
was gone into the openings.”

“And Dolly—where was she while you were here?”

“Poor Dolly!—I do think she passed quite half her
time up at the beach tree, where you first saw her, looking
if brother was not coming home. It is a cruel thing to a
wife to have a truant husband!”

“Which I hope may never be your case, pretty Margery,
and which I think never can.”

Margery did not answer: but the speech must have
been heard, uttered as it was in a much lower tone of
voice than the young man had hitherto used; for the
charming maiden looked down and blushed. Fortunately,
the two now soon arrived at the tree, and their conversation
naturally reverted to the subject which had brought
them there. Three canoes were in sight, close in with
the land, but so distant as to render it for some time
doubtful which way they were moving. At first, the bee-hunter
said that they were still going slowly to the southward;
but he habitually carried his little glass, and, on
levelling that, it was quite apparent that the savages were

paddling before the wind, and making for the mouth of
the river. This was a very grave fact; and, as Blossom
flew to communicate it to her brother and his wife, le
Bourdon moved towards his own canoe, and looked about
for a place of concealment.

Several considerations had to be borne in mind, in disposing
of the canoes; for that of Gershom was to be secreted,
as well as that of the bee-hunter. A tall aquatic
plant, that is termed wild rice, and which we suppose to
be the ordinary rice-plant, unimproved by tillage, grows
spontaneously about the mouths and on the flats of most
of the rivers of the part of Michigan of which we are
writing; as, indeed, it is to be found in nearly all the shallow
waters of those regions. There was a good deal of
this rice at hand; and the bee-hunter, paddling his own
canoe and towing the other, entered this vegetable thicket,
choosing a channel that had been formed by some accident
of nature, and which wound through the herbage in
a way soon to conceal all that came within its limits.
These channels were not only numerous, but exceedingly
winding; and the bee-hunter had no sooner brought his
canoes to the firm ground and fastened them there, than
he ascended a tree, and studied the windings of these
narrow passages, until he had got a general idea of their
direction and characters. This precaution taken, he hurried
back to the hut.

“Well, Gershom, have you settled on the course to be
taken?” were the first words uttered by the bee-hunter
when he rejoined the family of Whiskey Centre.

“We haven't,” answered the husband. “Sister begs us
to quit the chienté, for the Indians must soon be here; but
wife seems to think that she must be safe, now I'm at
home, ag'in.”

“Then wife is wrong, and sister is right. If you will
take my advice, you will hide all your effects in the woods,
and quit the cabin as soon as possible. The Injins cannot
fail to see this habitation, and will be certain to destory
all they find in it, and that they do not carry off. Besides,
the discovery of the least article belonging to a white
man will set them on our trail; for scalps will soon bear
a price at Montreal. In half an hour, all that is here can

be removed into the thicket that is luckily so near; and
by putting out the fire with care, and using proper caution,
we may give the place such a deserted look that the
savages will suspect nothing.”

“If they enter the river, Bourdon, they will not 'camp
out with a wigwam so near by; and should they come
here, what is to prevent their seein' the foot-prints we
shall leave behind us?”

“The night, and that only. Before morning their own
footsteps will be so plenty as to deceive them. Luckily
we all wear moccasins, which is a great advantage just
now. But every moment is precious, and we should be
stirring. Let the women take the beds and bedding,
while you and I shoulder this chest. Up it goes, and
away with it!”

Gershom had got to be so much under his companion's
influence, that he complied, though his mind suggested
various objections to the course taken, to which his tongue
gave utterance as they busied themselves in this task.
The effects of Whiskey Centre had been gradually diminishing
in quantity, as well as in value, for the last three
years, and were now of no great amount, in any sense.
Still, there were two chests, one large, and one small. The
last contained all that a generous regard for the growing
wants of the family had left to Margery; while the first
held the joint wardrobes of the husband and wife, with a
few other articles that were considered as valuable.—
Among other things were half a dozen of very thin silver
tea-spoons, which had fallen to Gershom on a division of
the family plate. The other six were carefully wrapped
up in paper and put in the till of Margery's chest, being
her portion of this species of property. The Americans,
generally, have very little plate; though here and there
marked exceptions do exist; nor do the humbler classes
lay out much of their earnings in jewelry, while they
commonly dress far beyond their means in all other ways.
In this respect, the European female of the same class in
life frequently possesses as much in massive golden personal
ornaments as would make an humble little fortune, while
her attire is as homely as cumbrous petticoats, coarse cloth,
and a vile taste can render it. On the other hand, the

American matron that has not a set—one half-dozen—of
silver tea-spoons must be poor indeed, and can hardly be
said to belong to the order of housekeepers at all. By
means of a careful mother, both Gershom and his sister
had the half-dozen mentioned; and they were kept more
as sacred memorials of past and better days than as articles
of any use. The household goods of Waring would have
been limited by his means of transportation, if not by his
poverty. Two common low-post maple bedsteads were soon
uncorded and carried off, as were the beds and bedding.
There was scarcely any crockery, pewter and tin being its
substitutes; and as for chairs there was only one, and that
had rockers: a practice of New England that has gradually
diffused itself over the whole country, looking down ridicule,
the drilling of boarding-schools, the comments of
elderly ladies of the old school, the sneers of nurses, and,
in a word, all that venerable ideas of decorum could suggest,
until this appliance of domestic ease has not only
fairly planted itself in nearly every American dwelling, but
in a good many of Europe also!

It required about twenty minutes for the party to clear
the cabin of every article that might induce an Indian to
suspect the presence of white men. The furniture was
carried to a sufficient distance to be safe from everything
but a search; and care was had to avoid as much as possible
making a trail, to lead the savages to the place selected
for the temporary store-room. This was merely a close
thicket, into which there was a narrow but practicable entrance
on the side the least likely to be visited. When all
was accomplished the four went to the look-out to ascertain
how far the canoes had come. It was soon ascertained
that they were within a mile, driving down before a strong
breeze and following sea, and impelled by as many paddles
as there were living beings in them. Ten minutes would
certainly bring them up with the bar, and five more fairly
within the river. The question now arose, where the party
was to be concealed during the stay of the savages. Dolly,
as was perhaps natural to the housewife, wished to remain
by her worldly goods, and pretty Margery had a strong
feminine leaning to do the same. But neither of the men
approved of the plan. It was risking too much in one

spot; and a suggestion that the bee-hunter was not long
in making, prevailed.

It will be remembered that le Bourdon had carried the
canoes within the field of wild rice, and bestowed them
there with a good deal of attention to security. Now
these canoes offered, in many respects, better places of
temporary refuge under all the circumstances than any
other that could readily be found on shore. They were
dry; and by spreading skins, of which Boden had so many,
comfortable beds might be made for the females, which
would be easily protected from the night air and dews by
throwing a rug over the gunwales. Then, each canoe
contained many articles that would probably be wanted;
that of the bee-hunter in particular furnishing food in
abundance, as well as divers other things that would be
exceedingly useful to persous in their situation. The great
advantage of the canoes, however, in the mind of le Bourdon,
was the facilities they offered for flight. He hardly
hoped that Indian sagacity would be so far blinded as to
prevent the discovery of the many foosteps they must have
left in their hurried movements, and he anticipated that
with the return of day something would occur to render it
necessary for them to seek safety by a stealthy removal from
the spot. This might be done, he both hoped and believed,
under cover of the rice, should sufficient care be taken to
avoid exposure. In placing the canoes, he had used the
precaution to leave them where they could not be seen from
the cabin or its vicinity, or, indeed, from any spot in the
vicinity of the ground that the savages would be likely to
visit during their stay. All these reasons le Bourdon now
rapidly laid before his companions, and to the canoes the
whole party retired as fast as they could walk.

There was great judgment displayed on the part of the
bee-hunter in selecting the wild rice as a place of shelter.
At that season it was sufficiently grown to afford a complete
screen to everything within it that did not exceed the height
of a man, or which was not seen from some adjacent elevation.
Most of the land near the mouth of the river was
low, and the few spots which formed exceptions had been
borne in mind when the canoes were taken into the field.
But just as Gershom was on the point of putting a foot into

his own canoe, with a view to arrange it for the reception
of his wife, he drew back, and exclaimed after the manner
of one to whom a most important idea suddenly occurs—

“Land's sake! I've forgotten all about them barrels!
They'll fall into the hands of the savages, and an awful
time they'll make with them! Let me pass, Dolly; I must
look after the barrels this instant.”

While the wife gently detained her eager husband, the
bee-hunter quietly asked to what barrels he alluded.

“The whiskey casks,” was the answer. “There's two
on 'em in the shed behind the hut, and whiskey enough to
set a whole tribe in commotion. I wonder I should have
overlooked the whiskey!”

“It is a sign of great improvement, friend Waring, and
will lead to no bad consequences,” returned le Bourdon,
coolly. “I foresaw the danger, and rolled the casks down
the hill, where they were dashed to pieces in the brook,
and the liquor has long since been carried into the lake
in the shape of grog.”

Waring seemed astounded; but was so completely mystified
as not to suspect the truth. That his liquor should be
hopelessly lost was bad enough; but even that was better
than to have it drunk by savages without receiving any returns.
After groaning and lamenting over the loss for a
few minutes, he joined the rest of the party in making some
further dispositions, which le Bourdon deemed prudent, if
not necessary.

It had occurred to the bee-hunter to divide his own cargo
between the two canoes, which was the task that the whole
party was now engaged in. The object was to lighten his
own canoe in the event of flight, and, by placing his effects
in two parcels, give a chance to those in the boat which
might escape, of having wherewithal to comfort and console
themselves. As soon as this new arrangement was
completed, le Bourdon ran up to a tree that offered the desired
facilities, and springing into its branches, was soon
high enough to get a view of the bar and the mouth of the
river. By the parting light of day, he distinctly saw four
canoes coming up the stream; which was one more than
those reported to him by Margery as having passed.