 | THE OAK OPENINGS. The oak openings, or, The bee-hunter |  |
1. THE OAK OPENINGS.
1. CHAPTER I.
“Rush'd burning through his frame;
“The depths of that green solitude
“Its torrents could not tame,
“Though stillness lay, with eve's last smile,
“Round those far fountains of the Nile.”
Mrs. Hemans.
When the bee hunter and corporal Flint thus went forth
at midnight, from the “garrison” of Castle Meal, (chateau
au miel,) as the latter would have expressed it, it was with
no great apprehension of meeting any other than a four-footed
enemy, notwithstanding the blast of the horn the
worthy corporal supposed he had heard. The movements
of the dog seemed to announce such a result rather than
any other, for Hive was taken along as a sort of guide.
Le Bourdon, however, did not permit his mastiff to run
off wide, but, having the animal at perfect command, it
was kept close to his own person.
The two men first moved towards the grove of the Kitchen,
much to Hive's discontent. The dog several times
halted, and he whined, and growled, and otherwise manifested
his great dislike to proceed in that direction. At
length so decided did his resistance become, that his master
said to his companion,
“It seems to me best, corporal, to let the mastiff lead
us. I have never yet seen him so set on not going in one
way, and on going in another. Hive has a capital nose,
and we may trust him.”
“Forward,” returned the corporal, wheeling short in
however, Bourdon, which is this—you must act as light
troops in this sortie, and I as the main body. If we come
on the inimy, it will be your duty to skrimmage in front as
long as you can, and then fall back on on your resarves.
I shall depend chiefly on the baggonet, which is the best
tool to put an Injin up with; and as he falls back, before
my charge, we must keep him under as warm a fire as
possible. Having no cavalry, the dog might be made useful
in movements to the front and on our flanks.”
“Pooh, pooh, corporal, you're almost as much set in
the notions of your trade as parson Amen is set in his
idees about the lost tribes. In my opinion there'll be
more tribes found in these openings before the summer is
over than we shall wish to meet. Let us follow the dog,
and see what will turn up.” Hive was followed, and he
took a direction that led to a distant point in the openings,
where, not only the trees were much thicker than common,
but where a small tributary of the Kalamazoo ran
through a ravine, from the higher lands adjacent into the
main artery of all the neighboring water courses. The
bee-hunter knew the spot well, having often drank at the
rivulet, and cooled his brow in the close shades of the
ravine, when heated by exertions in the more open grounds.
In short, the spot was one of the most eligible for concealment,
coolness, and pure water, within several miles of
Castle Meal. The trees formed a spacious grove around
it, and, by means of the banks, their summits and leaves
answered the purpose of a perfect screen to those who
might descend into the ravine, or, it would be better to
say, to the bottom. Le Bourdon was no sooner satisfied
that his mastiff was proceeding towards the great spring
which formed the rivulet, at the head of the ravine mentioned,
than he suspected Indians might be there. He had
seen signs about the spot, which wore an appearance of
its having been used as a place of encampment—or for
“camping out,” as it is termed in the language of the west
—and, coupling the sound of the horn with the dog's
movements, his quick apprehension seized on the facts as
affording reasonable grounds of distrust. Consequently
the wood which surrounded the spring, and the
small oval bit of bottom that lay spread before it, like a
little lawn. Hive was kept close at his master's side,
though he manifested a marked impatience to advance.
“Now, corporal,” said the bee-hunter in a low tone, “I
think we have lined some savages to their holes. We will
go round the basin and descend to the bottom, in a close
wood which grows there. Did you see that?”
“I suppose I did,” answered the corporal, who was as
firm as a rock—“You meant to ask me if I saw fire?”
“I did. The red men have lighted their council fire
in this spot, and have met to talk around it. Well, let
'em hearken to each other's thoughts, if they will; we
shall be neither the better nor the worse for it.”
“I don't know that. When the commander in chief
calls together his principal officers, something usually
comes of it. Who knows but this very council is called
in order to take opinions on the subject of besieging or
of storming our new garrison? Prudent soldiers should
always be ready for the worst.”
“I have no fear, so long as Peter is with us. That
chief is listened to by every red skin; and while we have
him among us there will be little to care for. But we are
getting near to the bottom, and must work our way
through these bushes with as little noise as possible. I
will keep the dog quiet.”
The manner in which that sagacious animal now behaved
was truly wonderful. Hive appeared to be quite as
much aware of the necessity of extreme caution as either
of the men, and did not once attempt to precede his master
his own length. On one or two occasions he actually
discovered the best passages, and led his companions
through them with something like the intelligence of a
human being. Neither growl nor bark escaped him; on
the contrary, even the hacking breathing of an impatient
dog was suppressed, precisely as if the animal knew how
near he was getting to the most watchful ears in the world.
After using the greatest care, the bee-hunter and the
corporal got just such a station as they desired. It was
concealed, while small openings enabled them to
see all that was passing in their front. A fallen tree,
a relick of somewhat rare occurrence in the Openings of
Michigan, even furnished them with a seat, while it rendered
their position less exposed. Hive placed himself
at his master's side, apparently trusting to other senses
than that of sight for his information, since he could see
nothing of what was going on in front.
As soon as the two men had taken their stations, and
began to look about them, a feeling of awe mingled with
their curiosity. Truly, the scene was one so very remarkable
and imposing, that it might have filled more intellectual
and better fortified minds with some such sensation.
The fire was by no means large, nor was it particularly
bright; but sufficient to cast a dim light on the objects
within reach of its rays. It was in the precise centre of a
bit of bottom land of about half an acre in extent, which
was so formed and surrounded, as to have something of
the appearance of the arena of a large amphitheatre.—
There was one break in the encircling rise of ground, it
is true, and that was at a spot directly opposite the station
of Le Bourdon and his companion, where the rill which
flowed from the spring found a passage out toward the
more open ground. Branches shaded most of the mound,
but the arena itself was totally free from all vegetation but
that which covered the dense and beautiful sward with
which it was carpeted. Such is a brief description of the
natural accessories of this remarkable scene.
But it was from the human actors, and their aspects,
occupations, movements, dress, and appearance generally,
that the awe which came over both the bee-hunter
and the corporal, had its oigin. Of these, near fifty were
present, offering a startling force by their numbers alone.
Each man was a warrior, and each warrior was in his
paint. These were facts that the familiarity of the two
white men with Indian customs rendered only too certain.
What was still more striking was the fact that all present
appeared to be chiefs; a circumstance which went to
show that an imposing body of red men was most likely
It was while observing, and reflecting on all these
things, a suspicion first crossed the mind of le Bourdon
that this great council was about to be held, at that midnight
hour, and so near his own abode, for the purpose
of accommodating Peter, whose appearance in the dark
crowd, from that instant, he began to expect.
The Indians already present were not seated. They
stood in groups, conversing, or stalked across the arena,
resembling so many dark and stately spectres. No sound
was heard among them, a circumstance that added largely
to the wild and supernatural aspect of the scene. If any
spoke, it was in a tone so low and gentle, as to carry the
sound no further than to the ears that were listening;
two never spoke at the same time and in the same
group, while the moccasin permitted no foot-fall to be
audible. Nothing could have been more unearthly than
the picture presented in that little, wood-circled arena, of
velvet-like grass and rural beauty. The erect, stalking
forms, half naked, if not even more; the swarthy skins;
the faces fierce in the savage conceits which were intended
to strike terror into the bosoms of enemies, and the glittering
eyes that fairly sparkled in their midst, all contributed
to the character of the scene, which le Bourdon
rightly enough imagined was altogether much the most
remarkable of any he had ever been in the way of witnessing.
Our two spectators might have been seated on the fallen
tree half an hour, all of which time they had been gazing
at what was passing before their eyes; with positively not
a human sound to relieve the unearthly nature of the picture.
No one spoke, coughed, laughed, or exclaimed, in
all that period. Suddenly, every chief stood still, and all
the faces turned in the same direction. It was towards
the little gate-way of the rill, which being the side of the
arena most remote from the bee-hunter and the corporal,
lay nearly in darkness as respected them. With the red
men it must have been different, for they all appeared to
be in intent expectation of some one from that quarter.
Nor did they have to wait long; for, in half a minute, two
and deliberate tread to the centre of the arena.—
As these new comers got more within the influence of the
flickering light, le Bourdon saw that they were Peter and
Parson Amen. The first led, with a slow, imposing manner,
while the other followed, not a little bewildered with
what he saw. It may be as well to explain here, that the
Indian was coming alone to this place of meeting, when
he encountered the missionary wandering among the oaks,
looking for le Bourdon and the corporal, and, instead of
endeavoring to throw off this unexpected companion, he
quietly invited him to be of his own party.
It was evident to le Bourdon, at a glance, that Peter
was expected, though it was not quite so clear that such
was the fact as regarded his companion. Still, respect
for the great chief prevented any manifestations of surprise,
or discontent, and the medicine-man of the pale
faces was received with as grave a courtesy as if he had
been an invited guest. Just as the two had entered the
dark circle that formed around them, a young chief threw
some dry sticks on the fire, which, blazing upward, cast
a stronger light on a row of as terrifically looking countenances
as ever gleamed on human forms. This sudden
illumination, with its accompanying accessories, had the
effect to startle all the white spectators, though Peter looked
on the whole with a calm like that of the leafless tree,
when the cold is at its height, and the currents of the wintry
air are death-like still. Nothing appeared to move him;
whether expected or not; though use had probably accustomed
his eye to all the aspects in which savage ingenuity
could offer savage forms. He even smiled, as he
made a gesture of recognition, which seemed to salute the
whole group. It was just then, when the fire burned
brightest, and when the chiefs pressed most within its
influence, that le Bourdon perceived that his old acquaintances,
the head men of the Pottawattamies, were present,
among the other chiefs so strangely and portentously
assembled in these grounds which he had so long possessed
almost entirely to himself.
A few of the oldest of the chiefs now approached Peter,
was said did not reach le Bourdon, of course; for it was
not even heard in the dark circle of savages who surrounded
the fire. The effect of this secret dialogue, however,
was to cause all the chiefs to be seated, each taking his
place on the grass; the whole preserving the original circle
around the fire. Fortunately, for the wishes of le
Bourdon, Peter and his companions took their stations
directly opposite to his own seat, thus enabling him to
watch every lineament of that remarkable chief's still more
remarkable countenance. Unlike each, and all, of the
red men around him, the face of Peter was not painted,
except by the tints imparted by nature; which, in his case,
was that of copper a little tarnished, or rendered dull by
the action of the atmosphere. The bee-hunter could distinctly
trace every lineament; nor was the dark roving
eye beyond the reach of his own vision. Some attention
was given to the fire, too, one of the younger chiefs occasionally
throwing on it a few dried sticks, more to keep
alive the flame, and to renew the light, than from any
need of warmth. One other purpose, however, this fire
did answer; that of enabling the young chiefs to light
the pipes that were now prepared; it seldom occurring that
the chiefs thus assembled without smoking around their
council fire.
As this smoking was just then more a matter of ceremony
than for any other purpose, a whiff or two sufficed
for each chief; the smoker passing the pipe to his neighbor
as soon as he had inbaled a few puffs. The Indians
are models of propriety in their happiest moods, and every
one in that dark and menacing circle was permitted to
have his turn with the pipe, before any other step was
taken. There were but two pipes lighted, and mouths
being numerous, some time was necessary in order to complete
this ceremony. Still, no sign of impatience was
seen, the lowest chief having as much respect paid to his
feelings, as related to this attention, as the highest. At
length the pipes completed their circuit, even Paron Amen
getting, and using, his turn, when a dead pause succeeded.
The silence resembled that of a Quaker meeting,
chiefs, evidently about to speak. The language of
the great Ojebway nation was used on this occasion, most
of the chiefs present belonging to some one of the tribes
of that stock, though several spoke other tongues, English
and French included. Of the three whites present, Parson
Amen alone fully comprehended all that was said, he
having qualified himself in this respect, to preach to the
tribes of that people; though le Bourdon understood
nearly all, and even the corporal comprehended a good
deal. The name of the chief who first spoke at this secret
meeting, which was afterwards known among the Ojebways
by the name of the “Council of the Bottom Land,
near to the spring of gushing water,” was Bear's Meat,
an appellation that might denote a distinguished hunter,
rather than an orator of much renown.
“Brothers of the many tribes of the Ojebways,” commenced
this personage, “The Great Spirit has permitted
us to meet in council. The Manitou of our fathers is
now among these oaks, listening to our words, and looking
in at our hearts. Wise Indians will be careful what
they say in such a presence, and careful of what they
think. All should be said and thought for the best. We
are a scattered nation, and the time is come when we
must stop in our tracks, or travel beyond the sound of
each other's cries. If we travel beyond the hearing of
our people, soon will our children learn tongues that Ojebway
ears cannot understand. The mother talks to her
child, and the child learns her words. But no child can
hear across a great lake. Once we lived near the rising
sun. Where are we now? Some of our young men say
they have seen the sun go down in the lakes of sweet
water. There can be no hunting grounds beyond that
spot; and if we would live, we must stand still in our
tracks. How to do this, we have met to consider.
“Brothers, many wise chiefs and braves are seated at
this council fire. It is pleasant to my eyes to look upon
them. Ottawas, Chippeways, Pottawattamies, Menominees,
Hurons and all. Our Father at Quebec has dug up
the hatchet against the Yankees. The war path is open
prophets are speaking to our people, and we listen. One
is here; he is about to speak. The council will have but
a single sense, which will be that of hearing.”
Thus concluding, Bear's Meat took his seat, in the
same composed and dignified manner as that in which he
had risen, and deep silence succeeded. So profound was
the stillness that, taken in connection with the dark lineaments,
the lustrous eye-balls that threw back the light of
the fire, the terrific paint and the armed hands of every warrior
present, the picture might be described as imposing to
a degree that is seldom seen in the assemblies of the
civilized. In the midst of this general but portentous
calm, Peter arose. The breathing of the circle grew
deeper, so much so as to be audible, the only manner in
which the intensity of the common expectation betrayed
itself. Peter was an experienced orator, and knew how
to turn every minntiæ of his art to good account. His
every movement was deliberate, his attitude highly dignified—even
his eye seemed eloquent.
Oratory! what a power art thou, wielded, as is so often
the case, as much for evil as for good. The very reasoning
that might appear to be obtuse, or which would be
overlooked entirely when written and published, issuing
from the mouth, aided by the feelings of sympathy and
the impulses of the masses, seems to partake of the wisdom
of divinity. Thus is it, also, with the passions, the
sense of wrong, the appeals to vengeance, and all the
other avenues of human emotion. Let them be addressed
to the cold eye of reason and judgment, in the form of
written statements, and the mind pauses to weigh the
force of arguments, the justice of the appeals, the truth of
facts; but let them come upon the ear aided by thy art,
with a power concentrated by sympathy, and the torrent
is often less destructive in its course, than that of the whirlwind
that thou canst awaken!
“Chiefs of the great Ojebway nation, I wish you well,”
said Peter, stretching out his arms towards the circle, as
if desirous of embracing all present. “The Manitou has
been good to me. He has cleared a path to this spring,
friends. Why should we not all be friendly? Why
should a red man ever strike a blow against a red man?
The Great Spirit made us of the same colour, and placed
us on the same hunting grounds. He meant that we
should hunt in company; not take each other's scalps.
How many warriors have fallen in our family wars?
Who has counted them? Who can say? Perhaps
enough, had they not been killed, to drive the pale faces
into the sea!”
Here Peter, who as yet had spoken only in a low and
barely audible voice, suddenly paused, in order to allow
the idea he had just thrown out to work on the minds
of his listeners. That it was producing its effect was apparent
by the manner in which one stern face turned towards
another, and eye seemed to search in eye some response
to a query that the mind suggested, though no utterance
was given to it with the tongue. As soon, however,
as the orator thought time sufficient to impress that
thought on the memories of the listeners had elapsed, he
resumed, suffering his voice gradually to increase in volume,
as he warmed with his subject.
“Yes,” he continued, “the Manitou has been very
kind. Who is the Manitou? Has any Indian ever seen
him? Every Indian has seen him. No one can look on
the hunting grounds, on the lakes, on the prairies, on the
trees, on the game, without seeing his hand. His face is
to be seen in the sun at noon-day; his eyes in the stars
at night. Has any Indian ever heard the Manitou?
When it thunders, he speaks. When the crash is loudest,
then he scolds. Some Indian has done wrong. Perhaps
one red man has taken another red man's scalp!”
Another pause succeeded, briefer, and less imposing
than the first, but one that sufficed to impress on the listeners
anew, the great evil of an Indian's raising his hand
against an Indian.
“Yes, there is no one so deaf as not to hear the voice
of the Great Spirit when he is angry,” resumed Peter.
“Ten thousands of buffaloe bulls, roaring together, do
not make as much noise as his whisper. Spread the prairies,
can be heard in all, and on all, at the same time.
“Here is a medicine priest of the pale-faces; he tells
me that the voice of the Manitou reaches into the largest
villages of his people, beneath the rising sun, when it is
heard by the red man across the great lakes, and near the
rocks of the setting sun. It is a loud voice; wo to him
who does not remember it. It speaks to all colours, and
to every people, and tribe, and nation.”
“Brothers, that is a lying tradition which says there
is one Manitou for a Sac, and another for the Ojebway—
one Manitou for the red man, and another for the pale-face.
In this, we are alike. One Great Spirit made all;
governs all; rewards all; punishes all. He may keep
the Happy Hunting Grounds of an Indian separate from
the white man's Heaven, for he knows that their customs
are different, and what would please a warrior would displease
a trader; and what would please a trader would
displease a warrior. He has thought of these things, and
has made several places for the spirits of the good, let their
colours be what they may. Is it the same with the places
of the spirits of the bad? I think not. To me it would
seem best to let them go together, that they may torment
one another. A wicked Indian and a wicked pale-face
would make a bad neighborhood. I think the Manitou
will let them go together.
“Brothers, if the Manitou keeps the good Indian and
the good pale-face apart in another world, what has brought
them together in this? If he brings the bad spirits of all
colours together in another world, why should they come
together here, before their time? A place for wicked
spirits should not be found on earth. This is wrong; it
must be looked into.
“Brothers, I have now done; this pale-face wishes to
speak, and I have said that you would hear his words.
When he has spoken his mind, I may have more to tell
you. Now, listen to the stranger. He is a medicine-priest
of the white men, and says he has a great secret to
tell our people—when he has told it, I have another for
one near but the children of red clay.”
Having thus opened the way for the missionary, Peter
courteously took his seat, producing a little disappointment
among his own admirers, though he awakened a
lively curiosity to know what this medicine-priest might
have to say on an occasion so portentous. The Indians
in the regions of the great lakes had long been accustomed
to missionaries, and it is probable that even some of their
own traditions, so far as they related to religious topics,
had been insensibly coloured by, if not absolutely derived
from, men of this character: for the first whites who are
known to have penetrated into that portion of the continent,
were Jesuits, who carried the cross as their standard
and emblem of peace. Blessed emblem! that any should
so confound their own names and denuciatory practices
with the revealed truth, as to imagine that a standard so
appropriate should ever be out of season and place, when
it is proper for man to use aught, at all, that is addressed
to his senses, in the way of symbols, rites and ceremonies!
To the Jesuits succeeded the less ceremonious and less
imposing priesthood of America, as America peculiarily
was in the first years that followed the Revolution. There
is reason to believe that the spirit of God, in a greater or
less degree, accompanied all; for all were self-denying
and zealous, though the fruits of near two centuries of labor
have, as yet, amounted to little more than the promise of
the harvest at some distant day. Enough, however, was
known of the missionaries, and their views in general, to
prepare the council, in some small degree, for the forthcoming
exhibition.
Parson Amen had caught some of the habits of the Indians,
in the course of years of communication and intercourse.
Like them he had learned to be deliberate, calm
and dignified in his exterior; and, like them, he had acquired
a sententious mode of speaking.
“My children,” he said, for he deemed it best to assume
the parental character, in a scene of so great moment,
“as Peter has told you, the Spirit of God is among you!
Christians know that such has he promised to be always
ready to claim as belonging to those who have prayed
with me, in days that are long past. If your souls are not
touched by divine love, it does not kill the hope I entertain
of your yet taking up the cross, and calling upon the Redeemer's
name. But, not for this, have I come with Peter,
this night. I am now here to lay before you an all
important fact, that Providence has revealed to me, as the
fruit of long labour in the vineyard of study and biblical
inquiry. It is a tradition—and red men love traditions—
It is a tradition that touches your own history, and which
it will gladden your hearts to hear, for it will teach you
how much your nation and tribes have been the subject of
the especial care and love of the Great Spirit. When my
children say speak, I shall be ready to speak.”
Here the missionary took his seat, wisely awaiting a
demonstration on the part of the council, ere he ventured
to proceed any further. This was the first occasion on
which he had ever attempted to broach, in a direct form,
his favorite theory of the `lost tribes.' Let a man get
once fairly possessed of any peculiar notion, whether it be
on religion, political economy, morals, politics, arts, or any
thing else, and he sees little beside his beloved principle,
which he is at all times ready to advance, defend, demonstrate,
or expatiate on. Nothing can be simpler than the
two great dogmas of Christianity, which are so plain that
all can both comprehend them and feel their truth. They
teach us to love God, the surest way to obey him, and to
love our neighbor as ourselves. Any one can understand
this; all can see how just it is, and how much of moral
sublimity it contains. It is Godlike, and brings us near the
very essence of the Divinity, which is love, mercy, and
truth. Yet, how few are content to accept the teachings
of the Saviour in this respect, without embarrassing them
with theories that have so much of their origin in human
fancies. We do not mean by this, however, that Parson
Amen was so very wrong in bestowing a part of his attention
on that wonderful people, who, so early set apart by
the Creator as the creatures of his own especial ends, have
already played so great a part in the history of nations,
yet to enact their share in the sublime drama of human
events.
As for the council, its members were moved by more
than ordinary curiosity to hear what further the missionary
might have to say, though all present succeeded admirably
in suppressing the exhibition of any interest that might
seem weak and womanly. After a decent delay, therefore,
Bear's Meat intimated to the parson that it would be
agreeable to the chiefs present to listen to him further.
“My children, I have a great tradition to tell you,” the
missionary resumed, as soon as on his feet again; “a very
great and divine tradition; not a tradition of man's, but
one that came direct from the Manitou himself. Peter
has spoken truth: there is but one Great Spirit; he is the
Great Spirit of all colours, and tribes, and nations. He
made all men of the same clay.” Here a slight sensation
was perceptible among the audience, most of whom were
very decidedly of a different opinion, on this point of natural
history. But the missionary was now so far warmed
with his subject as to disregard any slight interruption,
and proceeded as if his listeners had betrayed no feeling.
“And he divided them afterwards into nations and tribes.
It was then that he caused the colour of his creatures to
change. Some he kept white, as he had made them.
Some he put behind a dark cloud, and they became altogether
black. Our wise men think that this was done in
punishment for their sins. Some he painted red, like the
nations on this continent,” Here Peter raised a finger, in
sign that he would ask a question; for, without permission
granted, no Indian would interrupt the speaker. Indeed,
no one of less claims than Peter would hardly have presumed
to take the step he now did, and that because he
saw a burning curiosity gleaming in the bright eyes of so
many in the dark circle.
“Say on, Peter,” answered the missionary to this sign;
“I will reply.”
“Let my brother say why the Great Spirit turned the
Indian to a red colour? Was he angry with him? or did
he paint him so out of love?”
“That is more than I can tell you, friends. There are
many colours among men, in different parts of the world,
and many shades among people of the same colour. There
are pale-faces fair as the lily, and there are pale-faces so
dark, as scarcely to be distinguished from blacks. The
sun does much of this; but no sun, nor want of sun, will
ever make a pale-face a red-skin, or a red-skin a pale-face.”
“Good—that is what we Indians say. The Manitou
has made us different; he did not mean that we should
live on the same hunting grounds,” rejoined Peter, who
rarely failed to improve every opportunity in order to impress
on the minds of his followers the necessity of now
crushing the serpent in its shell.
“No man can say that,” answered Parson Amen.—
“Unless my people had come to this continent, the word
of God could not have been preached by me, along the
shores of these lakes. But I will now speak of our great
tradition. The Great Spirit divided mankind into nations
and tribes. When this was done, he picked out one for
his chosen people. The pale faces call that favorite, and
for a long time much favored people, Jews. The Manitou
led them through a wilderness, and even through a salt
lake, until they reached a promised land, where he permitted
them to live for many hundred winters. A great
triumph was to come out of that people—the triumphs of
truth and of the law, over sin and death. In the course
of time—”
Here a young chief rose, made a sign of caution, and
crossing the circle rapidly, disappeared by the passage
through which the rill flowed. In about a minute he returned,
showing the way into the centre of the council to
one whom all present immediately recognised as a runner,
by his dress and equipments. Important news was at
hand; yet not a man of all that croud either rose or spoke,
in impatience to learn what it was!
| THE OAK OPENINGS. The oak openings, or, The bee-hunter | |