University of Virginia Library

12. CHAPTER XII.

Keats.

It can easily be understood that the party with the
canoes were left by Peter in a state of great anxiety. The
distance between the site of the hut and their place of concealment
was but little more than a quarter of a mile, and
the yell of the savages had often reached their ears, notwithstanding
the cover of the woods. This proximity, of
itself, was fearful; but the uncertainty that le Bourdon felt
on the subject of Peter's real intentions, added greatly to

his causes of concern. Of course, he knew but little of
the sudden change that had come over this mysterious
chief's feelings; nor is it very likely that he would have
been able to appreciate it, even had the fact been more
fully stated. Our hero had very little acquaintance with
the dogmas of Christianity, and would have most probably
deemed it impossible that so great a revolution of purpose
could have been so suddenly wrought in the mind of man,
had the true state of the case been communicated to him.
He would have been ready enough to allow that, with
God, nothing is impossible; but, might have been disposed
to deny the influence of His Holy Spirit, as exhibited in
this particular form, for a reason no better than the circumstance
that he himself had never been the subject of
such a power. All that Peter had said, therefore, served
rather to mystify him, than to explain, in its true colours,
what had actually occurred. With Margery it was different.
Her schooling had been far better than that of any
other of the party, and, while she admired the manly appearance,
and loved the free, generous, character of her
husband, she had more than once felt pained at the passing
thoughts of his great indifference to sacred things.
This feeling in le Bourdon, however, was passive rather
than active, and gave her a kind interest in his future welfare,
rather than any present pain through acts and words.

But, as respects their confidence in Peter, this young
couple were much farther apart than in their religious
notions. The bee-hunter had never been without distrust,
though his apprehensions had been occasionally so far
quieted as to leave him nearly free of them, altogether;
while his wife had felt the utmost confidence in the chief,
from the very commencement of their acquaintance. It
would be useless, perhaps, to attempt to speculate on the
causes; but it is certain that there are secret sources of
sympathy that draw particular individuals towards each
other, and antipathies that keep them widely separated.
Men shall meet for the first time, and feel themselves attracted
towards each other, like two drops of water, or repelled,
like the corks of an electric machine.

The former had been the case with Peter and Margery.
They liked each other from the first, and kind offices had

soon come to increase this feeling. The girl had now seen
so much of the Indians, as to regard them much as she
did others, or with the discriminations, and tastes, or distastes,
with which we all regard our fellow-creatures; feeling
no particular cause of estrangement. It is true, that
Margery would not have been very likely to fall in love
with a young Indian, had one come in her way of a suitable
age and character; for her American notions on the
subject of colour, might have interposed difficulties; but,
apart from the tender sentiments, she could see good and
bad qualities in one of the aborigines, as well as in a white
man. As a consequence of this sympathy between Peter
and Margery, the last had ever felt the utmost confidence
in the protection and friendship of the first. This she
did, even while the struggle was going on in his breast on
the subject of including her in his fell designs, or of making
an exception in her favour. It shows the waywardness of
our feelings, that Margery had never reposed confidence in
Pigeonswing, who was devotedly the friend of le Bourdon,
and who remained with them for no other reason than a
general wish to be of use. Something brusque in his manner,
which was much less courteous and polished than that
of Peter, had early rendered her dissatified with him, and
once estranged, she had never felt disposed to be on terms
of intimacy, sufficient to ascertain his good or bad qualities.

The great change of feeling in Peter was not very clearly
understood by Margery, any more than it was by her husband;
though had her attention been drawn more strictly
to it, she would have best known how to appreciate it. But
this knowledge was not wanting to put her perfectly at
peace, so far as apprehensions of his doing her harm were
concerned. This sense of security she now manifested in
a conversation with le Bourdon, that took place soon after
Peter had left them.

“I wish we weren't in the hands of this red-skin, Margery,”
said her husband, a little more off his guard than
was his wont.

“Of Peter! You surprise me, Benjamin. I think we
could not be in better hands, since we have got this risk to
run with the savages. If it was Pigeonswing that you
feared, I could understand it.”

“I will answer for Pigeonswing with my life.”

“I am glad to hear you say so, for I do not half like
him. Perhaps I am prejudiced against him. The scalp he
took down at the mouth of the river set me against him
from the first.”

“Do you not know, Margery, that your great friend goes
by the name of “Scalping Peter?”'

“Yes, I know it very well; but I do not believe he ever
took a scalp in his life.”

“Did he ever tell you as much as that?”

“I can't say that he did; but he has never paraded any
thing of the sort before my eyes, like Pigeonswing. I do
not half like that Chippewa, dear Bourdon.”

“No fear of him, Margery; nor, when I come to think
it all over, do I see why Peter should have brought us here,
if he means anything wrong. The man is so myterious,
that I cannot line him down to his hole.”

“My word for it, Bourdon, that when you do, it will take
you to a friendly hive. I have put almost as much faith in
Peter as in you or Gershom. You heard what he said
about Parson Amen and the corporal.”

“And how coolly he took it all,” answered her husband,
shaking his head. “It has been a sudden departure for
them, and one would think even an Injin might have felt it
more.”

Margery's cheek grew pale, and her limbs trembled a
little. It was a minute ere she could pursue the discourse.

“This is terrible, but I will not, cannot, believe it,” she
said. “I'm sure, Bourdon, we ought to be very thankful
to Peter for having brought us here. Remember how earnestly
he listened to the words of the Saviour.”

“If he has brought us here with a good intention, I
thank him for it. But I scarce know what to think. Pigeonswing
has given me many a hint, which I have understood
to mean that we ought not to trust this unknown
Injin too much.”

“So has he given me some of his hints, though I would
sooner trust Peter than trust him any time.”

“Our lives are in the care of Providence, I see. If we
can really rely on these two Injins, all may be well; for

Peter has brought us to an admirable cover, and he says
that the Chippewa prepared it.”

The young husband and his wife now landed, and began
to examine more particularly into the state of the swamp,
near their place of concealment. Just at that spot the bank
of the river was higher than in most of the low land, and
was dry, with a soil that approached sand. This was the
place where the few young pines had grown. The dry
ground might have covered four or five acres, and so many
trees having been felled, light and air were admitted, in a
way to render the place comparatively cheerful. The
branches of the felled trees made a sufficient cover in all
directions, though the swamp itself was more than that,
almost a defence, towards the Openings. The bee-hunter
found it was possible, though it was exceedingly difficult,
to make his way through it. He ascertained the fact, however,
since it might be important to their future movements
to know it.

In a word, le Bourdon made a complete reconnoissance
of his position. He cleared a spot for the females, and
made a sort of hut, that would serve as a protection
against rain, and in which they all might sleep at night.
There was little doubt that this place must be occupied for
some days, if Peter was acting in good faith, since an early
movement would infallibly lead to detection. Time must
be given to the Indians to precede them, or the great numbers
of the savages would scarce leave a hope of escape,
A greater sense of security succeeded this examination,
and these arrangements. The danger was almost entirely
to be apprehended on the side of the river. A canoe passing
up-stream might, indeed, discover their place of concealment,
but it was scarcely to be apprehended that
one would wade through the mud and water of the swamp
to approach them in any other direction.

Under these circumstances, le Bourdon began to feel
more security in their position. Could he now be certain
of Peter, his mind would be comparatively at ease, and he
might turn his attention altogether to making the party
comfortable. Margery, who seldom quitted his side, reasoned
with him on the subject of the mysterious chief's
good faith, and by means of her own deep reliance on him,

she came at last to the point of instilling some of her own
confidence into the mind of her husband. From that time
he worked at the shelter for the females, and the other
little arrangements their situation rendered necessary, with
greater zest, and with far more attention to the details.
So long as we are in doubt of accomplishing good, we hesitate
about employing our energies; but once let hope
revive within us, in the shape of favourable results, and we
become new men; bracing every nerve to the task, and
working with redoubled spirit; even should it be at the
pump of the sinking ship, which we believe ranks the
highest among the toils that are inflicted on the unfortunate.

For three days and nights did le Bourdon and his friends
remain on that dry land of the swamp, without hearing or
seeing anything of either Peter or Pigeonswing. The
time was growing long, and the party anxious; though
the sense of security was much increased by this apparent
exemption from danger. Still, uncertainty, and the wish
to ascertain the precise state of things in the Openings,
were gradually getting to be painful, and it was with great
satisfaction that the bee-hunter met his young wife as she
came running towards him, on the morning of the fourth
day, to announce that an Indian was approaching, by
wading in the margin of the river, keeping always in the
water so as to leave no trail. Hurrying to a point whence
their visiter might be seen, le Bourdon soon perceived it
was no other than Pigeonswing. In a few minutes this
Indian arrived, and was gladly received by all four of the
fugitives; who gathered around him eager to hear the
news.

“You are welcome, Chippewa,” cried le Bourdon,
shaking his friend cordially by the hand. “We were half
afraid we might never see you again. Do you bring us
good, or evil tidings?”

“Must n't be squaw, and ask too much question, Bourdon,”
returned the red-skin, carefully examining the priming
of his rifle, in order to make sure it was not wet.
“Got plenty venison, eh?”

“Not much venison is left, but we have caught a good
many fish, which have helped us along. I have killed a

dozen large squirrels, too, with your bow and arrows, which
I find you left in your canoe. But—”

“Yes, he good bow, dat—might kill hummin'-bird wid
dat bow. Fish good here, eh?”

“They are eatable, when a body can get no better. But
now, I should think, Pigeonswing, you might give us some
of the news.”

“Must n't be squaw, Bourdon—bad for warrior be squaw.
Alway bess be man, and be patient, like man. What you
t'ink, Bourdon? Got him at last!”

“Got what, my good fellow? I see nothing about you,
but your arms and ammunition.”

“Got scalp of dat Weasel! Was n't dat well done?
Nebber no young warrior take more scalp home dan Pigeonswing
carry dis time! Got t'ree; all hid, where
Bear's Meat nebber know. Take 'em away, when he get
ready to march.”

“Well, well, Chippewa—I suppose it will not be easy
to reason you out of this feelin'—but what has become
of the red-skins who burned my cabin, and who killed the
missionary and the corporal?”

“All about—dough most go down river. Look here,
Bourdon, some of dem chief fool enough to t'ink bee carry
you off on his wing!”

Here the Chippewa looked his contempt for the credulity
and ignorance of the others, though he did not express it
after the boisterous manner in which a white man of his
class might have indulged. To him le Bourdon was a good
fellow, but no conjuror, and he understood the taking of
the bee too well to have any doubts as to the character of
that process. His friend had let him amuse himself by the
hour in looking through his spy-glass, so that the mind of
this one savage was particularly well fortified against the
inroads of the weaknesses that had invaded those of most
of the members of the Great Council. Consequently, he
was amused with the notion taken up by some of the others,
that le Bourdon had been carried off by bees, though he
manifested his amusement in a very Indian-like fashion.

“So much the better,” answered le Bourdon; “and I
hope they have followed, to line me down to my hive in the
settlements.”

“Most on 'em go—yes, dat true. But some don't go.
Plenty of Injins still about dis part of Opening.”

“What are we then to do? We shall soon be in want
of food. The fish do not bite as they did, and I have
killed all the squirrels I can find. You know I dare not
use a rifle.”

“Don't be squaw, Bourdon. When Injin get marry he
grows good deal like squaw at fuss; but dat soon go away.
I spose its just so wid pale-face. Mustn't be squaw, Bourdon.
Dat bad for warrior. What you do for eat? Why,
see dere,” pointing to an object that was floating slowly
down the river, the current of which was very sluggish just
in that reach. “Dere as fat buck as ever did see, eh?”

Sure enough the Indian had killed a deer, of which the
Openings were full, and having brought it to the river, he
had constructed a raft of logs, and placing the carcase on
it, he had set his game adrift, taking care to so far precede
it as to be in readiness to tow it into port. When this last
operation was performed, it was found that the Chippewa
did not heedlessly vaunt the quality of his prize. What
was more, so accurately had he calculated the time, and
the means of subsistence in the possession of the fugitives,
that his supply came in just as it was most needed. In all
this he manifested no more than the care of an experienced
and faithful hunter. Next to the war-path, the hunting-ground
is the great field for an Indian's glory; deeds and
facts, so far eclipsing purely intellectual qualifications with
savages, as to throw oratory, though much esteemed by
them, and wisdom at the Council Fires, quite into the
shade. In all this, we find the same propensity among ourselves.
The common mind, ever subject to these impulses,
looks rather to such exploits as address themselves to the
senses and the imagination, than to those qualities which
the reason alone can best appreciate; and in this, ignorance
asserts its negative power over all conditions of life.

Pigeonswing now condescended to enter on such explanations
as the state of the case rendered necessary. His
account was sufficiently clear, and it manifested throughout
the sagacity and shrewdness of a practised hunter and
scout. We shall not attempt to give his words, which

would require too much space, but the substance of his
story was briefly this.

As has been alluded to already, the principal chiefs, on
a suggestion of Bear's Meat, had followed the young men
down the Kalamazoo, dividing themselves by a part of their
body's crossing the stream at the first favourable spot. In
this way the Indians proceeded, sweeping the river before
them, and examining every place that seemed capable of
concealing a canoe. Runners were kept in constant motion
between the several parties, in order to let the state of
the search be known to all; and, feigning to be one of
these very men, Pigeonswing had held communication with
several whom he purposely met, and to whom he imparted
such invented information as contributed essentially to send
the young men forward on a false scent. In this way, the
main body of the savages descended the river some sixty
miles, following its windings, in the first day and a half.
Here Pigeonswing left them, turning his own face up stream,
in order to rejoin his friends. Of Peter he had no knowledge;
neither knowing, nor otherwise learning, what had
become of the great chief. On his way up stream, Pigeonswing
met several more Indians; runners like himself, or as
he seemed to be; or scouts kept on the look-out for the
fugitives. He had no difficulty in deceiving these men.
None of them had been of Crowsfeather's party, and he
was a stranger to them all. Ignorant of his real character,
they received his information without distrust, and the
orders he pretended to convey were obeyed by them without
the smallest hesitation. In this way, then, Pigeonswing
contrived to send all the scouts he met away from the river,
by telling them that there was reason to think the pale-faces
had abandoned the stream, and that it was the wish of Bear's
Meat that their trail should be looked for in the interior.
This was the false direction that he gave to all, thereby
succeeding better even than he had hoped in clearing the
banks of the Kalamazoo of observers and foes. Nevertheless,
many of those whom he knew to be out, some quite
in the rear of the party, and others in its front, and at no
great distance from them, he did not meet; of course he
could not get his false directions to their ears. There were,
in fact, so many of the Indians and so few of the whites,

that it was an easy matter to cover the path with young
warriors, any one party of whom would be strong enough
to capture two men and as many women.

Having told the tale of his own doings, Pigeonswing
next came to his proposition for the mode of future proceeding.
He proposed that the family should get into the
canoes that very night, and commence its flight by going
down the stream directly towards its foes! This sounded
strangely, but there did not seem to be any alternative.
A march across the peninsula would be too much for the
females, and there was the certainty that their trail would
be found. It may seem strange to those who are unacquainted
with the American Indian and his habits, to
imagine that, in so large an expanse, the signs of the passage
of so small a party might not escape detection; but
such was the case. To one unaccustomed to the vigilance
and intelligence of these savages, it must appear just as
probable that the vessel could be followed through the
wastes of the ocean, by means of its wake, as that the foot-prints
should be so indelible as to furnish signs that can
be traced for days. Such, however, is the fact, and no
one understood it better than the Chippewa. He was also
aware that the country towards Ohio, whither the fugitives
would naturally direct their course, now that the English
were in possession of Detroit, must soon be a sort of battle-ground,
to which most of the warriors of that region
would eagerly repair. Under all the circumstances, therefore,
he advised the flight by means of the river. Le
Bourdon reasoned on all he heard, and, still entertaining
some of his latent distrust of Peter, and willing to get
beyond his reach, he soon acquiesced in the proposition,
and came fully into the plan.

It was now necessary to re-load the canoes. This was
done in the course of the day, and every arrangement was
made, so as to be ready for a start as soon as the darkness
set in. Everybody was glad to move, though all were
aware of the extent of the hazard they run. The females,
in particular, felt their hearts beat, as each, in her husband's
canoe, issued out of the cover into the open river.
Pigeonswing took the lead, paddling with a slow, but
steady sweep of his arm, and keeping as close as was convenient

to one bank. By adopting this precaution, he
effectually concealed the canoes from the eyes of all on
that side of the river, unless they stood directly on its
margin, and had the aid of the shadows to help conceal
them from any who might happen to be on the other.
In this way, then, the party proceeded, passing the site of
the hut, and the grove of the Openings around it, undetected.
As the river necessarily flowed through the lowest
land, its banks were wooded much of the way, which
afforded great protection to the fugitives; and this so
much the more because these woods often grew in swamps
where the scouts would not be likely to resort.

About midnight the canoes reached the first rift. An
hour was lost in unloading and in reloading the canoes,
and in passing the difficulties at that point. As soon as
this was done, the party re-embarked, and resorted once
more to the use of the paddle, in order to gain a particular
sheltered reach of the river previously to the return of light.
This was effected successfully, and the party landed.

It now appeared that Pigeonswing had chosen another
swamp, as a place of concealment for the fugitives to use
during the day. These swamps, through which the river
wound its way in short reaches, were admirably adapted
to such purposes. Dark, sombre, and hardly penetrable
on the side of the land, they were little likely to be entered
after a first examination. Nor was it at all probable that
females, in particular, would seek a refuge in such a place.
But the Chippewa had found the means to obviate the
natural obstacles of the low land. There were several
spots where the water from the river set back into the
swamp, forming so many little creeks; and into the largest
of one of these he pushed his canoe, the others following
where he led. By resorting to such means, the shelter
now obtained was more complete, perhaps, than that previously
left.

Pigeonswing forced his light boat up the shallow inlet,
until he reached a bit of dry land, where he brought up,
announcing that as the abiding-place during the day. Glad
enough was every one to get on shore, in a spot that promised
security, after eight hours of unremitted paddling
and of painful excitement. Notwithstanding the rifts and

carrying-places they had met, and been obliged to overcome,
le Bourdon calculated that they had made as many
as thirty miles in the course of that one night. This was
a great movement, and to all appearances it had been
made without detection. As for the Chippewa, he was
quite content, and no sooner was his canoe secured, than
he lighted his pipe and sat down to its enjoyment with an
air of composure and satisfaction.

“And here, you think, Pigeonswing, that we shall be
safe during the day?” demanded le Bourdon, approaching
the fallen tree on which the Indian had taken his seat.

“Sartain — no Pottawattomie come here. Too wet.
Don't like wet. An't duck, or goose—like dry land, juss
like squaw. Dis good 'baccy, Bourdon — hope you got
more for friend.”

“I have enough for us all, Pigeonswing, and you shall
have a full share. Now, tell me; what will be your next
move, and where do you intend us to pass the morrow?”

“Juss like diss. Plenty of swamp, Bourdon, on Kekala-mazoo.
[1] Run canoe in swamp; den safe 'nough. Injins
won't look 'ere, 'cause he don't know whereabout look.
Don't like swamp. Great danger down at mouth of river.”

“So it has seemed to me, Chippewa. The Injins must
be there in a strong force, and we shall find it no easy
matter to get through them. How do you propose to do
it?”

“Go by in night. No udder way. When can't see,
can't see. Dere plenty of rush dere; dat good t'ing, and
p'raps dat help us. Rush good cover for canoe. Expec',
when we get down 'ere, to get some scalp, too. Plenty of
Pottawattomie about dat lodge, sartain; and it very hard
if don't get some on him scalp. You mean stop, and dig
up cáche; eh, Bourdon?”

The cool, quiet manner in which Pigeonswing revealed
his own plans, and enquired into those of his friend, had
at least the effect to revive the confidence of le Bourdon.
He could not think the danger very great so long as one
so experienced as the Chippewa felt so much confidence in

his own future proceedings; and, after talking a short time
longer with this man, the bee-hunter went to seek Margery,
in order to impart to her a due portion of his own
hopes.

The sisters were preparing the breakfast. This was
done without the use of fire, it being too hazardous to permit
smoke to rise above the tops of the trees. Many is
the camp that has been discovered by the smoke, which
can be seen at a great distance, and is a certain sign of the
presence of man, when it ascends in threads, or such small
columns as denote a domestic fire beneath. This is very
different from the clouds that float above the burning
prairies, and which all, at once, impute to their true origin.
The danger of using fire had been so much guarded against,
by our fugitives, that the cooking of the party had been
done at night; the utmost caution having been used to
prevent the fire itself from being seen, and care taken to
extinguish it long before the return of day. A supply of
cold meat was always on hand, and had it not been, the
fugitives would have known how to live on berries, or, at
need, to fast: anything was preferable, being exposed to
certain capture.

As soon as the party had broken their fast, arrangements
were made for recruiting nature by sleep. As for Pigeonswing,
Indian-like, he had eaten enormously, no reasonable
quantity of venison sufficing to appease his appetite; and
when he had eaten, he lay down in the bottom of his canoe
and slept. Similar dispositions were made of their persons,
by the rest, and half an hour after the meal was ended,
all there were in a profound sleep. No watch was considered
necessary, and none was kept.

The rest of the weary is sweet. Long hours passed,
ere any one there awoke; but no sooner did the Chippewa
move, than all the rest were afoot. It was now late in the
day, and it was time to think of taking the meal that was
to sustain them through the toil and fatigues of another
arduous night. This was done, the necessary preparations
being made for a start ere the sun had set. The canoes
were then shoved as near the mouth of the inlet, as it was
safe to go while the light remained. Here they stopped,
and a consultation took place, as to the manner of proceeding.

No sooner did the shades of evening close around the
place, than the fugitives again put forth. The night
was clouded and dark, and so much of the way now lay
through forests, that there was little reason to apprehend
detection. The chief causes of delay were the rifts, and
the portages, as had been the case the night before. Luckily,
le Bourdon had been up and down the stream so often,
as to be a very tolerable pilot in its windings. He assumed
the control, and by midnight the greatest obstacle to that
evening's progress was overcome. At the approach of day,
Pigeonswing pointed out another creek, in another swamp,
where the party found a refuge for the succeeding day.
In this manner four nights were passed on the river, and
as many days in swamps, without discovery. The Chippewa
had nicely calculated his time and his distances, and
not the smallest mistake was made. Each morning a place
of shelter was reached in sufficient season; and each night
the fugitives were ready for the start as the day shut in.
In this manner, most of the river was descended, until a
distance that could be easily overcome in a couple of hours
of paddling, alone remained between the party and the
mouth of the stream. Extreme caution was now necessary,
for signs of Indians in the neighbourhood had been detected
at several points, in the course of the last night's work.
On one occasion, indeed, the escape was so narrow as to
be worth recording.

It was at a spot where the stream flowed through a forest
denser than common, that Pigeonswing heard voices on
the river, ahead of him. One Indian was calling to another,
asking to be set across the stream in a canoe. It
was too late to retreat, and so much uncertainty existed as
to the nearness, or distance, of the danger, that the Chippewa
deemed it safest to bring all three of his canoes
together, and to let them float past the point suspected, or
rather known, to be occupied by enemies. This was done,
with the utmost care. The plan succeeded, though not
without running a very great risk. The canoes did float
past unseen, though there was a minute of time when le
Bourdon fancied by the sounds, that savages were talking
to each other, within a hundred feet of his ears. Additional
security however was felt in consequence of the circumstance,

since the pursuers must imagine the river below
them to be free from the pursued.

The halt that morning was made earlier than had been
the practice previously. This was done because the remaining
distance was so small, that in continuing to advance,
the party would have incurred the risk of reaching the
mouth of the river by daylight. This was to be avoided on
every account, but principally because it was of great importance
to conceal from the savages the direction taken.
Were the chiefs certain that their intended victims were
on Lake Michigan, it would be possible for them to send
parties across the isthmus, that should reach points on Lake
Huron, days in advance of the arrival of the bee-hunter and
his friends in the vicinity of Saginaw, or Pointe aux Barques,
for instance, and where the canoes would be almost certain
to pass near the shore, laying their ambushes to accomplish
these ends. It was thought very material, therefore, to
conceal the movements, even after the lake might be reached,
though le Bourdon had not a doubt of his canoes much
outsailing those of the savages. The Indians are not very
skilful in the use of sails, while the bee-hunter knew how
to manage a bark canoe in rough water, with unusual skill.
In the common acceptation, he was no sailor; but, in his
own peculiar craft, there was not a man living who could
excel him in dexterity or judgment.

The halting-place that morning was not in a swamp, for
none offered at a suitable distance from the mouth of the
river. On the contrary, it was in a piece of Opening,
that was tolerably well garnished with trees, however, and
through which ran a small brook that poured its tribute into
the Kalamazoo. The Chippewa had taken notice of this
brook, which was large enough to receive the canoes, where
they might be concealed in the rushes. A favourable copse,
surrounded with elders, afforded a covered space on shore,
and these advantages were improved for an encampment.

Instead of seeking his rest as usual, on reaching this
cover, Pigeonswing left the party on a scout. He walked
up the brook some distance, in order to conceal his trail,
and then struck across the Opening, taking the direction
westward, or towards the river's mouth. As for le Bourdon

and his friends, they ate and slept as usual, undisturbed;
but arose some hours before the close of day.

Thus far, a great work had been accomplished. The
canoes had descended the stream with a success that was
only equalled by the hardihood of the measure, conducted
by an intelligence that really seemed to amount to an instinct.
Pigeonswing carried a map of the Kalamazoo in
his head, and seemed never at a loss to know where to find
the particular place he sought. It is true, he had roamed
through those Openings ever since he was a child; and an
Indian seldom passes a place susceptible of being made of
use to his habits, that he does not take such heed of its
peculiarities, as to render him the master of all its facilities.

Margery was now full of hope, while the bee-hunter was
filled with apprehensions. She saw all things couleur de
rose, for she was young, happy, and innocent; but he better
understood that they were just approaching the most serious
moment of their flight. He knew the vigilance of the
American savage, and could not deceive himself on the
subject of the danger they must run. The mouth of the
river was just the place that, of all others, would be the
closest watched, and to pass it would require not only all
their skill and courage, but somewhat of the fostering care
of Providence. It might be done with success, though the
chances were much against it.