CHAPTER VI.
And long shall timorous fancy see The painted chief and pointed spear; And reason's self shall bow the knee To shadows and delusions here. FRENEAU.
A bright moon reflected on the earth for about an hour the light of thesun, as the latter luminary disappeared. By its aid the bee-hunter, whostill continued in the tree, was enabled to watch the movements of thecanoes of the Indians, though the persons they contained soon got tobe so indistinct as to render it impossible to do more than count theirnumbers. The last he made out to be five each in three of the canoes,and six in the other, making twenty-one individuals in all. This wastoo great an odds to think of resisting, in the event of the strangersturning out to be hostile; and the knowledge of this disparity in forceadmonished all the fugitives of the necessity of being wary and prudent.
The strangers landed just beneath the hut, or at the precise spot whereWhiskey Centre was in the habit of keeping his canoe, and whence Bodenhad removed it only an hour or two before. The savages had probablyselected the place on account of its shores being clear of the wildrice, and because the high ground near it promised both a lookoutand comfortable lodgings. Several of the party strolled upward, as ifsearching for an eligible spot to light their fire, and one of them soondiscovered the cabin. The warrior announced his success by a whoop, anda dozen of the Indians were shortly collected in and about the chiente.All this proved the prudence of the course taken by the fugitives.
Blossom stood beneath the tree, and the bee-hunter told her, as eachincident occurred, all that passed among the strangers, when the girlcommunicated the same to her brother and his wife, who were quite nearat hand in one of the canoes. As there was no danger of being overheard,conversation in an ordinary tone passed between the parties, two of whomat least were now fond of holding this sort of communion.
"Do they seem to suspect the neighborhood of the occupants of thecabin?" asked Margery, when the bee-hunter had let her know the mannerin which the savages had taken possession of her late dwelling.
"One cannot tell. Savages are always distrustful and cautious when on awar-path; and these seem to be scenting about like so many hounds whichare nosing for a trail. They are now gathering sticks to light a fire,which is better than burning the chiente."
"THAT they will not be likely to do until they have no further need ofit. Tell me, Bourdon, do any go near the thicket of alders where we havehidden our goods?"
"Not as yet; though there is a sudden movement and many loud yells amongthem!"
"Heaven send that it may not be at having discovered anything wehave forgotten. The sight of even a lost dipper or cup would set themblood-hounds on our path, as sure as we are white and they are savages!"
"As I live, they scent the whiskey! There is a rush toward, and apow-wow in and about the shed--yes, of a certainty they smell theliquor! Some of it has escaped in rolling down the hill, and their nosesare too keen to pass over a fragrance that to them equals that of roses.Well, let them SCENT as they may--even an Injin does not get drunkthrough his NOSE."
"You are quite right, Bourdon: but is not this a most unhappy scent forus, since the smell of whiskey can hardly be there without their seeingit did not grow in the woods of itself, like an oak or a beech?"
"I understand you, Margery, and there is good sense in what you say.They will never think the liquor grew there, like a blackberry or achestnut, though the place IS called Whiskey Centre!"
"It is hard enough to know that a family has deserved such a name,without being reminded of it by those that call themselves friends,"answered the girl pointedly, after a pause of near a minute, though shespoke in sorrow rather than in anger.
In an instant the bee-hunter was at pretty Margery's side, making hispeace by zealous apologies and winning protestations of respect andconcern. The mortified girl was soon appeased; and, after consultingtogether for a minute, they went to the canoe to communicate to thehusband and wife what they had seen.
"The whiskey after all is likely to prove our worst enemy," said thebee-hunter as he approached. "It would seem that in moving the barrelssome of the liquor has escaped, and the nose of an Injin is too quickfor the odor it leaves, not to scent it."
"Much good may it do them," growled Gershom--"they've lost me thatwhiskey, and let them long for it without gettin' any, as a punishmentfor the same. My fortun' would have been made could I only have got themtwo barrels as far as Fort Dearborn before the troops moved!"
"The BARRELS might have been got there, certainly," answered le Bourdon,so much provoked at the man's regrets for the destroyer which hadalready come so near to bringing want and ruin on himself and family, asmomentarily to forget his recent scene with pretty Margery; "but whetheranything would have been IN them is another question. One of those Irolled to the brow of the hill was half empty as it was."
"Gershom is so troubled with the ague, if he don't take stimulant inthis new country," put in the wife, in the apologetic manner in whichwoman struggles to conceal the failings of him she loves. "As forthe whiskey, I don't grudge THAT in the least; for it's a poor wayof getting rich to be selling it to soldiers, who want all the reasonliquor has left 'em, and more too. Still, Gershom needs bitters; andought not to have every drop he has taken thrown into his face."
By this time le Bourdon was again sensible of his mistake, and he beata retreat in the best manner he could, secretly resolving not to placehimself any more between two fires, in consequence of further blunderson this delicate subject. He now found that it was a very differentthing to joke Whiskey Centre himself on the subject of his greatfailing, from making even the most distant allusion to it in thepresence of those who felt for a husband's and a brother's weakness,with a liveliness of feeling that brutal indulgence had long sincedestroyed in the object of their solicitude. He accordingly pointed outthe risk there was that the Indians should make the obvious inference,that human beings must have recently been in the hut, to leave the freshscent of the liquor in question behind them. This truth was so apparentthat all felt its force, though to no one else did the danger seem sogreat as to the bee-hunter. He had greater familiarity with the Indiancharacter than any of his companions, and dreaded the sagacity of thesavages in a just proportion to his greater knowledge. He did not fail,therefore, to admonish his new friends of the necessity for vigilance.
"I will return to the tree and take another look at the movements of thesavages," le Bourdon concluded by saying. "By this time their fire mustbe lighted; and by the aid of my glass a better insight may be had intotheir plans and feelings."
The bee-hunter now went back to his tree, whither he was slowly followedby Margery; the girl yielding to a feverish desire to accompany him,at the very time she was half restrained by maiden bashfulness; thoughanxiety and the wish to learn the worst as speedily as possible,prevailed.
"They have kindled a blazing fire, and the whole of the inside of thehouse is as bright as if illuminated," said le Bourdon, who was nowcarefully bestowed among the branches of his small tree. "There are lotsof the red devils moving about the chiente, inside and out; and theyseem to have fish as well as venison to cook. Aye, there goes more drybrush on the fire to brighten up the picture, and daylight is almosteclipsed. As I live, they have a prisoner among 'em!"
"A prisoner!" exclaimed Margery, in the gentle tones of female pity."Not a white person, surely?"
"No--he is a red-skin like all of them--but--wait a minute till Ican get the glass a little more steady. Yes--it is so--I was right atfirst!"
"What is so, Bourdon--and in what are you right?"
"You may remember, Blossom, that your brother and I spoke of the twoInjins who visited me in the Openings. One was a Pottawattamie and theother a Chippewa. The first we found dead and scalped, after he hadleft us; and the last is now in yonder hut, bound and a prisoner. Hehas taken to the lake on his way to Fort Dearborn, and has, with all hiscraft and resolution, fallen into enemies' hands. Well will it be fo
rhim if his captors do not learn what befell the warrior who was slainnear my cabin, and left seated against a tree!"
"Do you think these savages mean to revenge the death of their brotheron this unfortunate wretch?"
"I know that he is in the pay of our general at Detroit, while thePottawattamies are in the pay of the English. This of itself would makethem enemies, and has no doubt been the cause of his being taken; butI do not well see how Injins on the lake here can know anything of whathappened some fifty miles or so up in the Openings."
"Perhaps the savages in the canoes belong to the same party as thewarrior you call Elksfoot, and that they have had the means of learninghis death, and by whose hand he fell."
The bee-hunter was surprised at the quickness of the girl's wit, thesuggestion being as discreet as it was ingenious. The manner in whichintelligence flies through the wilderness had often surprised him, andcertainly it was possible that the party now before him might have heardof the fate of the chief whose body he had found in the Openings, shortas was the time for the news to have gone so far. The circumstancethat the canoes had come from the northward was against the inference,however, and after musing a minute on the facts, le Bourdon mentionedthis objection to his companion.
"Are we certain these are the same canoes as those which I saw passthis afternoon?" asked Margery, who comprehended the difficulty in aninstant. "Of those I saw, two passed first, and one followed; while hereare FOUR that have landed."
"What you say may be true enough. We are not to suppose that the canoesyou saw pass are all that are on the lake. But let the savages be whomthey may, prudence tells us to keep clear of them if we can; and thismore so than ever, now I can see that Pigeonswing, who I know to be anAmerican Injin, is treated by them as an enemy."
"How are the savages employed now, Bourdon? Do they prepare to eat, ordo they torture their prisoner?"
"No fear of their attempting the last to-night. There is an uneasinessabout them, as if they still smelt the liquor; but some are busy cookingat the fire. I would give all my honey, pretty Margery, to be able tosave Pigeonswing! He is a good fellow for a savage, and is heart andhand with us in this new war, that he tells me has begun between us andthe English!"
"You surely would not risk your own life to save a savage, who kills andscalps at random, as this man has done!"
"In that he has but followed the habits of his color and race. I daresay WE do things that are quite as bad, according to Injin ways ofthinking. I DO believe, Margery, was that man to see ME in the hands ofthe Pottawattamies, as I now see HIM, he would undertake something formy relief."
"But what can you, a single man, do when there are twenty against you?"asked Margery, a little reproachfully as to manner, speaking like onewho had more interest in the safety of the young bee-hunter than shechose very openly to express.
"No one can say what he can do till he tries. I do not like the waythey are treating that Chippewa, for it looks as if they meant to do himharm. He is neither fed, nor suffered to be with his masters; but therethe poor fellow is, bound hand and foot near the cabin door, and lashedto a tree. They do not even give him the relief of suffering him to sitdown."
The gentle heart of Margery was touched by this account of the manner inwhich the captive was treated, and she inquired into other particularsconcerning his situation, with a more marked interest than she hadpreviously manifested in his state. The bee-hunter answered herquestions as they were put; and the result was to place the girl inpossession of a minute detail of the true manner in which Pigeonswingwas treated.
Although there was probably no intention on the part of the captors ofthe Chippewa to torture him before his time, tortured he must have beenby the manner in which his limbs and body were confined. Not only werehis arms fastened behind his back at the elbows, but the hands were alsotightly bound together in front. The legs had ligatures in two places,just above the knees and just below the ankles. Around the body wasanother fastening; which secured the captive to a beech that stood aboutthirty feet from the door of the cabin, and so nearly in a line withthe fire within and the lookout of le Bourdon, as to enable the lastdistinctly to note these particulars, aided as he was by his glass.Relying on the manner in which they secured their prisoner, the savagestook little heed of him; but each appeared bent on attending to his owncomfort, by means of a good supper, and by securing a dry lair in whichto pass the night. All this le Bourdon saw and noted too, ere he droppedlightly on his feet by the side of Margery, at the root of the tree.
Without losing time that was precious, the bee-hunter went at once tothe canoes and communicated his intention to Waring. The moon had nowset, and the night was favorable to the purpose of le Bourdon. At thefirst glance it might seem wisest to wait until sleep had fallen uponthe savages, ere any attempt were made to approach the hut; but Bodenreasoned differently. A general silence would succeed as soon as thesavages disposed of themselves to sleep, which would be much more likelyto allow his footsteps to be overheard, than when tongues and bodies andteeth were all in active movement. A man who eats after a long march, ora severe paddling, usually concentrates his attention on his food, as leBourdon knew by long experience; and it is a much better moment to stealupon the hungry and weary, to do so when they feed, than to do sowhen they sleep, provided anything like a watch be kept. That thePottawattamie would neglect this latter caution le Bourdon did notbelieve; and his mind was made up, not only to attempt the rescue of hisChippewa friend, but to attempt it at once.
After explaining his plan in a few words, and requesting Waring'sassistance, le Bourdon took a solemn leave of the party, and proceededat once toward the hut. In order to understand the movements of thebee-hunter, it may be well now briefly to explain the position ofthe chiente, and the nature of the ground on which the adventurer wasrequired to act. The hut stood on a low and somewhat abrupt swell, beingsurrounded on all sides by land so low as to be in many places wet andswampy. There were a good many trees on the knoll, and several thicketsof alders and other bushes on the lower ground; but on the whole, theswamps were nearly devoid of what is termed "timber." Two sides of theknoll were abrupt; that on which the casks had been rolled into thelake, and that opposite, which was next to the tree where Boden had solong been watching the proceedings of the savages. The distance betweenthe hut and this tree was somewhat less than a mile. The interveningground was low, and most of it was marshy; though it was possible tocross the marsh by following a particular course. Fortunately thiscourse, which was visible to the eye by daylight, and had been taken bythe fugitives on quitting the hut, might be dimly traced at night, byone who understood the ground, by means of certain trees and bushes,that formed so many finger-posts for the traveller. Unless thisparticular route were taken, however, a circuit of three or four milesmust be made, in order to pass from the chiente to the spot where thefamily had taken refuge. As le Bourdon had crossed this firm groundby daylight and had observed it well from his tree, he thought himselfenough of a guide to find his way through it in the dark, aided by themarks just mentioned.
The bee-hunter had got as far as the edge of the marsh on his way towardthe hut, when, pausing an instant to examine the priming of his rifle,he fancied that he heard a light footstep behind him. Turning, quickas thought, he perceived that pretty Margery had followed him thus far.Although time pressed, he could not part from the girl without showingthat he appreciated the interest she manifested in his behalf. Takingher hand, therefore, he spoke with a simplicity and truth, that impartedto his manner a natural grace that one bred in courts might have envied.What was more, with a delicacy that few in course would deem necessaryunder the circumstances, he did not in his language so much impute toconcern on his own account this movement of Margery's, as to that shefelt for her brother and sister; though in his inmost heart a throbbinghope prevailed that he had his share in it.
"Do not be troubled on account of Gershom and his wife, pretty Margery,"said the bee-hunter, "which, as I perceive, is the main reason why
youhave come here; and as for myself, be certain that I shall not forgetwho I have left behind, and how much her safety depends on my prudence."
Margery was pleased, though a good deal confused. It was new to herto hear allusions of this sort, but nature supplied the feeling toappreciate them.
"Is it not risking too much, Bourdon?" she said. "Are you sure of beingable to find the crossing in the marsh, in a night so very dark? I donot know but looking so long at the bright light in the cabin may blindme, but it DOES seem as if I never saw a darker night!"
"The darkness increases, for the star-light is gone; but I can see whereI go, and so long as I can do that there is not much fear of losing myway. I do not like to expose you to danger, but--"
"Never mind me, Bourdon--set me to do anything in which you think I canbe of use!" exclaimed the girl, eagerly.
"Well then, Margery, you may do this: come with me to the large tree inthe centre of the marsh, and I will set you on a duty that may possiblysave my life. I will tell you my meaning when there."
Margery followed with a light, impatient step; and, as neither stoppedto speak or to look around, the two soon stood beneath the tree inquestion. It was a large elm that completely overshadowed a considerableextent of firm ground. Here a full and tolerably near view could be hadof the hut, which was still illuminated by the blazing fire within.For a minute both stood silently gazing at the strange scene; then leBourdon explained to his companion the manner in which she might assisthim.
Once at the elm, it was not so difficult to find the way across themarsh, as it was to reach that spot, coming FROM the chiente. As therewere several elms scattered about in the centre of the marsh, thebee-hunter was fearful that he might not reach the right tree; inwhich case he would be compelled to retrace his steps, and that at theimminent hazard of being captured. He carried habitually a small darklantern, and had thought of so disposing of it in the lower branches ofthis very elm, as to form a focus of it, but hesitated about doingthat which might prove a guide to his enemies as well as to himself.If Margery would take charge of this lantern, he could hope to reap itsadvantages without incurring the hazard of having a light suspendedin the tree for any length of time. Margery understood the lessons shereceived, and promised to obey all the injunctions by which they wereaccompanied.
"Now, God bless you, Margery," added the bee-hunter. "Providence hasbrought me and your brother's family together in troublesome times;should I get back safe from this adventure, I shall look upon it as aduty to do all I can to help Gershom place his wife and sister beyondthe reach of harm."
"God bless you, Bourdon!" half whispered the agitated girl. "I know itis worth some risk to save a human life, even though it be that of anInjin, and I will not try to persuade you from this undertaking; butdo not attempt more than is necessary, and rely on my using the lanternjust as you have told me to use it."
Those young persons had not yet known each other a single day, yet bothfelt that confidence which years alone, in the crowds of the world, canordinarily create in the human mind. The cause of the sympathy whichdraws heart to heart, which generates friendships, and love, andpassionate attachments, is not obvious to all who choose to talk of it.There is yet a profound mystery in our organization, which has hithertoescaped the researches of both classes of philosophers, and which itprobably was the design of the Creator should not be made known to usuntil we draw nearer to that great end which, sooner or later, is to beaccomplished in behalf of our race, when "knowledge will abound," and weshall better understand our being and its objects, than is permitted tous in this our day of ignorance. But while we cannot trace the causesof a thousand things, we know and feel their effects. Among the othermysteries of our nature is this of sudden and strong sympathies, which,as between men for men, and women for women, awaken confidence andfriendship; and as between those of different sexes, excite passionateattachments that more or less color their future lives. The greatdelineator of our common nature, in no one of the many admirablepictures he has drawn of men, manifests a more profound knowledge ofhis subject, than in that in which he portrays the sudden and nearlyungovernable inclination which Romeo and Juliet are made to displayfor each other; an inclination that sets reason, habit, prejudice, andfamily enmities at defiance. That such an attachment is to be commended,we do not say; that all can feel it, we do not believe; that connectionsformed under its influence can always be desirable, we are far fromthinking: but that it may exist we believe is just as certain as any ofthe incomprehensible laws of our wayward and yet admirable nature.We have no Veronese tale to relate here, however, but simply a homelylegend, in which human feeling may occasionally be made to bear anhumble resemblance to that world-renowned picture which had its scenesin the beautiful capital of Venetian Lombardy.
When le Bourdon left his companion, now so intensely interested in hissuccess, to pick his way in the darkness across the remainder of themarsh, Margery retired behind the tree, where the first thing she didwas to examine her lantern, and to see that its light was ready toperform the very important office which might so speedily be requiredof it. Satisfied on this point, she turned her eyes anxiously in thedirection of the hut. By this time every trace of the bee-hunter waslost, the hillock in his front forming too dark a background to admitof his being seen. But the fire still blazed in the chiente, the savagesnot having yet finished their cooking, though several had satisfiedtheir appetites, and had already sought places where they might stretchthemselves for the night. Margery was glad to see that these lastindividuals bestowed themselves within the influence of the fire,warm as was the night. This was done most probably to escape from theannoyance of the mosquitos, more or less of which are usually found inthe low lands of the new countries, and near the margins of rivers.
Margery could distinctly see the Chippewa, erect and bound to his tree.On him she principally kept her looks riveted, for near his person didshe expect first again to find the bee-hunter. Indeed, there was nochance of seeing one who was placed beneath the light of the fire, sincethe brow of the acclivity formed a complete cover, throwing all below itinto deep shade. This circumstance was of the greatest importance tothe adventurer, however, enabling him to steal quite near to his friend,favored by a darkness that was getting to be intense. Quitting Margery,we will now rejoin le Bourdon, who by this time was approaching hisgoal.
The bee-hunter had some difficulty in finding his way across the marsh;but floundering through the impediments, and on the whole preserving themain direction, he got out on the firm ground quite as soon as he hadexpected to do. It was necessary for him to use extreme caution. TheIndians according to their custom had dogs, two of which had been insight, lying about half-way between the prisoner and the door of thehut. Boden had seen a savage feeding these dogs; and it appeared to himat the time as if the Indian had been telling them to be watchful of theChippewa. He well knew the services that the red men expected of theseanimals, which are kept rather as sentinels than for any great use theyput them to in the hunts. An Indian dog is quick enough to give thealarm, and he will keep on a trail for a long run and with considerableaccuracy, but it is seldom that he closes and has his share in thedeath, unless in the case of very timid and powerless creatures.
Nevertheless, the presence of these dogs exacted extra caution in themovements of the bee-hunter. He had ascended the hill a little out ofthe stream of light which still issued from the open door of the hut,and was soon high enough to get a good look at the state of things onthe bit of level land around the cabin. Fully one-half of the savageswere yet up and in motion; though the processes of cooking and eatingwere by this time nearly ended. These men had senses almost as acuteas those of their dogs, and it was very necessary to be on his guardagainst them also. By moving with the utmost caution, le Bourdon reachedthe edge of the line of light, where he was within ten yards of thecaptive. Here he placed his rifle against a small tree, and drew hisknife, in readiness to cut the prisoner's thongs. Three several times,while the bee-hunter was making
these preparations, did the two dogsraise their heads and scent the air; once, the oldest of the two gavea deep and most ominous growl. Singular as it may seem, this lastindication of giving the alarm was of great service to le Bourdon andthe Chippewa. The latter heard the growl, and saw two of the movementsof the animals' heads, from all which he inferred that there was somecreature, or some danger behind him. This naturally enough induced himto bestow a keen attention in that direction, and being unable toturn body, limbs, or head, the sense of hearing was his only means ofwatchfulness. It was while in this state of profound listening thatPigeonswing fancied he heard his own name, in such a whisper as oneraises when he wishes to call from a short distance with the leastpossible expenditure of voice. Presently the words "Pigeonswing," and"Chippewa," were succeeded by those of "bee-hunter," "Bourdon." This wasenough: the quick-witted warrior made a low ejaculation, such as mightbe mistaken for a half-suppressed murmur that proceeded from pain, butwhich one keenly on the watch, and who was striving to communicate withhim, would be apt to understand as a sign of attention. The whisperingthen ceased altogether, and the prisoner waited the result with thestoic patience of an American Indian. A minute later the Chippewa feltthe thongs giving way, and his arms were released at the elbows. An armwas next passed round his body, and the fastenings at the wrist werecut. At this instant a voice whispered in his ear--"Be of good heart,Chippewa--your friend, Bourdon, is here. Can you stand?"
"No stand," answered the Indian in a low whisper--"too much tie."
At the next moment the feet of the Chippewa were released, as were alsohis knees. Of all the fastenings none now remained but that which boundthe captive to the tree. In not cutting this, the bee-hunter manifestedhis coolness and judgment; for were the stout rope of bark severed, theIndian would have fallen like a log, from total inability to stand. Histhongs had impeded the circulation of the blood, and the usual temporaryparalysis had been the consequence. Pigeonswing understood the reasonof his friend's forbearance, and managed to rub his hands and wriststogether, while the bee-hunter himself applied friction to his feet,by passing his own arms around the bottom of the tree. The reader mayimagine the intense anxiety of Margery the while; for she witnessed thearrival of le Bourdon at the tree, and could not account for the longdelay which succeeded.
All this time, the dogs were far from being quiet or satisfied. Theirmasters, accustomed to being surrounded at night by wolves and foxes,or other beasts, took little heed, however, of the discontent of thesecreatures, which were in the habit of growling in their lairs. Thebee-hunter, as he kept rubbing at his friend's legs, felt now but littleapprehension of the dogs, though a new source of alarm presented itselfby the time the Chippewa was barely able to sustain his weight on hisfeet, and long before he could use them with anything like his formeragility. The manner in which the savages came together in the hut, andthe gestures made by their chief, announced pretty plainly that a watchwas about to be set for the night. As it was probable that the sentinelwould take his station near the prisoner, the bee-hunter was at a lossto decide whether it were better to commence the flight before or afterthe rest of the savages were in their lairs. Placing his mouth as closeto the ear of Pigeonswing as could be done without bringing his headinto the light, the following dialogue passed between le Bourdon and thecaptive.
"Do you see, Chippewa," the bee-hunter commenced, "the chief is tellingone of the young men to come and keep guard near you?"
"See him, well 'nough. Make too many sign, no to see."
"What think you--shall we wait till the warriors are asleep, or try tobe off before the sentinel comes?"
"Bess wait, if one t'ing. You got rifle--got tomahawk--got knife, eh?"
"I have them all, though my rifle is a short distance behind me, and alittle down the hill."
"Dat bad--nebber let go rifle on war-path. Well, YOU tomahawk him--_I_scalp him--dat'll do."
"I shall kill no man, Chippewa, unless there is great occasion for it.If there is no other mode of getting you off, I shall choose to cut thislast thong, and leave you to take care of yourself."
"Give him tomahawk, den--give him knife, too."
"Not for such a purpose. I do not like to shed blood without a goodreason for it."
"No call war good reason, eh? Bess reason in world Pottawattamie dig uphatchet ag'in' Great Fadder at Wash'ton--dat no good reason why take hisscalp, eh?"
In whispering these last words the Chippewa used so much energy, thatthe dogs again raised their heads from between their forepaws andgrowled. Almost at that instant the chief and his few remainingwakeful companions laid themselves down to sleep, and the young warriordesignated as the sentinel left the hut and came slowly toward theprisoner. The circumstances admitted of no delay; le Bourdon pressedthe keen edge of his knife across the withe that bound the Indian tothe tree; first giving him notice, in order that he might be prepared tosustain his own weight. This done, the bee-hunter dropped on the ground,crawling away out of the light; though the brow of the hill almostimmediately formed a screen to conceal his person from all near the hut.In another instant he had regained his rifle, and was descending swiftlytoward the crossing at the marsh.