The Oak Openings, Or, the Bee Hunter Read online

  It required about twenty minutes for the party to clear the cabin of every article that might induce an Indian to suspect the presence of white men. The furniture was carried to a sufficient distance to be safe from everything but a search; and care was had to avoid as much as possible making a trail, to lead the savages to the place selected for the temporary storeroom. This was merely a close thicket, into which there was a narrow but practicable entrance on the side the least likely to be visited. When all was accomplished the four went to the lookout to ascertain how far the canoes had come. It was soon ascertained that they were within a mile, driving down before a strong breeze and following sea, and impelled by as many paddles as there were living beings in them. Ten minutes would certainly bring them up with the bar, and five more fairly within the river. The question now arose, where the party was to be concealed during the stay of the savages. Dolly, as was perhaps natural for the housewife, wished to remain by her worldly goods, and pretty Margery had a strong feminine leaning to do the same. But neither of the men approved of the plan. It was risking too much in one spot; and a suggestion that the bee-hunter was not long in making prevailed.

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

  There was great judgment displayed on the part of the bee-hunter in selecting the wild rice as a place of shelter. At that season it was sufficiently grown to afford a complete screen to everything within it that did not exceed the height of a man, or which was not seen from some adjacent elevation. Most of the land near the mouth of the river was low, and the few spots which formed exceptions had been borne in mind when the canoes were taken into the field. But just as Gershom was on the point of putting a foot into his own canoe, with a view to arrange it for the reception of his wife, he drew back, and exclaimed after the manner of one to whom a most important idea suddenly occurs:

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

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

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

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

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

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

  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 the sun, as the latter luminary disappeared. By its aid the bee- hunter, who still continued in the tree, was enabled to watch the movements of the canoes of the Indians, though the persons they contained soon got to be so indistinct as to render it impossible to do more than count their numbers. 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 was too great an odds to think of resisting, in the event of the strangers turning out to be hostile; and the knowledge of this disparity in force admonished all the fugitives of the necessity of being wary and prudent.

  The strangers landed just beneath the hut, or at the precise spot where Whiskey Centre was in the habit of keeping his canoe, and whence Boden had removed it only an hour or two before. The savages had probably selected the place on account of its shores being clear of the wild rice, and because the high ground near it promised both a lookout and comfortable lodgings. Several of the party strolled upward, as if searching for an eligible spot to light their fire, and one of them soon discovered the cabin. The warrior announced his success by a whoop, and a 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 each incident occurred, all that passed among the strangers, when the girl communicated the same to her brother and his wife, who were quite near at 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 whom at least were now fond of holding this sort of communion.

  "Do they seem to suspect the neighborhood of the occupants of the cabin?" asked Margery, when the bee-hunter had let her know the manner in which the savages had taken possession of her late dwelling.

  "One cannot tell. Savages are always distrustful and cautious when on a war-path; and these seem to be scenting about like so many hounds which are 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 of it. Tell me, Bourdon, do any go near the thicket of alders where we have hidden our goods?"

  "Not as yet; though there is a sudden movement and many loud yells among them!"

  "Heaven send that it may not be at having discovered anything we have forgotten. The sight of even a lost dipper or cup would set them blood-hounds on our path, as sure as we are white and they are savages!"

  "As I live, they scent th
e whiskey! There is a rush toward, and a pow-wow in and about the shed—yes, of a certainty they smell the liquor! Some of it has escaped in rolling down the hill, and their noses are 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 drunk through his NOSE."

  "You are quite right, Bourdon: but is not this a most unhappy scent for us, since the smell of whiskey can hardly be there without their seeing it 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 a chestnut, 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 she spoke in sorrow rather than in anger.

  In an instant the bee-hunter was at pretty Margery's side, making his peace by zealous apologies and winning protestations of respect and concern. The mortified girl was soon appeased; and, after consulting together for a minute, they went to the canoe to communicate to the husband and wife what they had seen.

  "The whiskey after all is likely to prove our worst enemy," said the bee-hunter as he approached. "It would seem that in moving the barrels some of the liquor has escaped, and the nose of an Injin is too quick for the odor it leaves, not to scent it."

  "Much good may it do them," growled Gershom—"they've lost me that whiskey, and let them long for it without gettin' any, as a punishment for the same. My fortun' would have been made could I only have got them two 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 had already come so near to bringing want and ruin on himself and family, as momentarily to forget his recent scene with pretty Margery; "but whether anything would have been IN them is another question. One of those I rolled 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 in this new country," put in the wife, in the apologetic manner in which woman struggles to conceal the failings of him she loves. "As for the whiskey, I don't grudge THAT in the least; for it's a poor way of getting rich to be selling it to soldiers, who want all the reason liquor has left 'em, and more too. Still, Gershom needs bitters; and ought 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 beat a retreat in the best manner he could, secretly resolving not to place himself any more between two fires, in consequence of further blunders on this delicate subject. He now found that it was a very different thing to joke Whiskey Centre himself on the subject of his great failing, from making even the most distant allusion to it in the presence of those who felt for a husband's and a brother's weakness, with a liveliness of feeling that brutal indulgence had long since destroyed in the object of their solicitude. He accordingly pointed out the risk there was that the Indians should make the obvious inference, that human beings must have recently been in the hut, to leave the fresh scent of the liquor in question behind them. This truth was so apparent that all felt its force, though to no one else did the danger seem so great as to the bee- hunter. He had greater familiarity with the Indian character than any of his companions, and dreaded the sagacity of the savages 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 the savages," le Bourdon concluded by saying. "By this time their fire must be lighted; and by the aid of my glass a better insight may be had into their plans and feelings."

  The bee-hunter now went back to his tree, whither he was slowly followed by Margery; the girl yielding to a feverish desire to accompany him, at the very time she was half restrained by maiden bashfulness; though anxiety 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 the house is as bright as if illuminated," said le Bourdon, who was now carefully bestowed among the branches of his small tree. "There are lots of the red devils moving about the chiente, inside and out; and they seem to have fish as well as venison to cook. Aye, there goes more dry brush on the fire to brighten up the picture, and daylight is almost eclipsed. 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 I can get the glass a little more steady. Yes—it is so—I was right at first!"

  "What is so, Bourdon—and in what are you right?"

  "You may remember, Blossom, that your brother and I spoke of the two Injins who visited me in the Openings. One was a Pottawattamie and the other a Chippewa. The first we found dead and scalped, after he had left us; and the last is now in yonder hut, bound and a prisoner. He has taken to the lake on his way to Fort Dearborn, and has, with all his craft and resolution, fallen into enemies' hands. Well will it be for him if his captors do not learn what befell the warrior who was slain near my cabin, and left seated against a tree!"

  "Do you think these savages mean to revenge the death of their brother on this unfortunate wretch?"

  "I know that he is in the pay of our general at Detroit, while the Pottawattamies are in the pay of the English. This of itself would make them enemies, and has no doubt been the cause of his being taken; but I do not well see how Injins on the lake here can know anything of what happened some fifty miles or so up in the Openings."

  "Perhaps the savages in the canoes belong to the same party as the warrior you call Elksfoot, and that they have had the means of learning his death, and by whose hand he fell."

  The bee-hunter was surprised at the quickness of the girl's wit, the suggestion being as discreet as it was ingenious. The manner in which intelligence flies through the wilderness had often surprised him, and certainly it was possible that the party now before him might have heard of the fate of the chief whose body he had found in the Openings, short as was the time for the news to have gone so far. The circumstance that the canoes had come from the northward was against the inference, however, and after musing a minute on the facts, le Bourdon mentioned this objection to his companion.

  "Are we certain these are the same canoes as those which I saw pass this afternoon?" asked Margery, who comprehended the difficulty in an instant. "Of those I saw, two passed first, and one followed; while here are FOUR that have landed."

  "What you say may be true enough. We are not to suppose that the canoes you saw pass are all that are on the lake. But let the savages be whom they may, prudence tells us to keep clear of them if we can; and this more so than ever, now I can see that Pigeonswing, who I know to be an American Injin, is treated by them as an enemy."

  "How are the savages employed now, Bourdon? Do they prepare to eat, or do they torture their prisoner?"

  "No fear of their attempting the last to-night. There is an uneasiness about them, as if they still smelt the liquor; but some are busy cooking at the fire. I would give all my honey, pretty Margery, to be able to save Pigeonswing! He is a good fellow for a savage, and is heart and hand with us in this new war, that he tells me has begun between us and the English!"

  "You surely would not risk your own life to save a savage, who kills and scalps at random, as this man has done!"

  "In that he has but followed the habits of his color and race. I dare say WE do things that are quite as bad, according to Injin ways of thinking. I DO believe, Margery, was that man to see ME in the hands of the Pottawattamies, as I now see HIM, he would undertake something for my relief."

  "But what can you, a single man, do when there are twenty agai
nst you?" asked Margery, a little reproachfully as to manner, speaking like one who had more interest in the safety of the young bee-hunter than she chose very openly to express.

  "No one can say what he can do till he tries. I do not like the way they are treating that Chippewa, for it looks as if they meant to do him harm. He is neither fed, nor suffered to be with his masters; but there the poor fellow is, bound hand and foot near the cabin door, and lashed to a tree. They do not even give him the relief of suffering him to sit down."