Oak Openings Read online

  CHAPTER I.

  How doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour, And gather honey all the day, From every opening flower. WATTS' HYMNS FOR CHILDREN.

  We have heard of those who fancied that they beheld a signal instanceof the hand of the Creator in the celebrated cataract of Niagara. Suchinstances of the power of sensible and near objects to influence certainminds, only prove how much easier it is to impress the imaginationsof the dull with images that are novel, than with those that are lessapparent, though of infinitely greater magnitude. Thus it would seem tobe strange indeed, that any human being should find more to wonder atin any one of the phenomena of the earth, than in the earth itself; orshould especially stand astonished at the might of Him who created theworld, when each night brings into view a firmament studded with otherworlds, each equally the work of His hands!

  Nevertheless, there is (at bottom) a motive for adoration, in the studyof the lowest fruits of the wisdom and power of God. The leaf is asmuch beyond our comprehension of remote causes, as much a subject ofintelligent admiration, as the tree which bears it: the single treeconfounds our knowledge and researches the same as the entire forest;and, though a variety that appears to be endless pervades the world,the same admirable adaptation of means to ends, the same bountifulforethought, and the same benevolent wisdom, are to be found in theacorn, as in the gnarled branch on which it grew.

  The American forest has so often been described, as to cause oneto hesitate about reviving scenes that might possibly pall, and inretouching pictures that have been so frequently painted as to befamiliar to every mind. But God created the woods, and the themesbestowed by his bounty are inexhaustible. Even the ocean, with itsboundless waste of water, has been found to be rich in its variousbeauties and marvels; and he who shall bury himself with us, once more,in the virgin forests of this widespread land, may possibly discover newsubjects of admiration, new causes to adore the Being that has broughtall into existence, from the universe to its most minute particle.

  The precise period of our legend was in the year 1812, and the seasonof the year the pleasant month of July, which had now drawn near to itsclose. The sun was already approaching the western limits of a woodedview, when the actors in its opening scene must appear on a stage thatis worthy of a more particular description.

  The region was, in one sense, wild, though it offered a picture thatwas not without some of the strongest and most pleasing features ofcivilization. The country was what is termed "rolling," from somefancied resemblance to the surface of the ocean, when it is justundulating with a long "ground-swell."

  Although wooded, it was not, as the American forest is wont to grow,with tail straight trees towering toward the light, but with intervalsbetween the low oaks that were scattered profusely over the view, andwith much of that air of negligence that one is apt to see in groundswhere art is made to assume the character of nature. The trees, withvery few exceptions, were what is called the "burr-oak," a smallvariety of a very extensive genus; and the spaces between them, alwaysirregular, and often of singular beauty, have obtained the name of"openings"; the two terms combined giving their appellation to thisparticular species of native forest, under the name of "Oak Openings."

  These woods, so peculiar to certain districts of country, are notaltogether without some variety, though possessing a general characterof sameness. The trees were of very uniform size, being little tallerthan pear-trees, which they resemble a good deal in form; and havingtrunks that rarely attain two feet in diameter. The variety is producedby their distribution. In places they stand with a regularity resemblingthat of an orchard; then, again, they are more scattered and lessformal, while wide breadths of the land are occasionally seen in whichthey stand in copses, with vacant spaces, that bear no small affinity toartificial lawns, being covered with verdure. The grasses are supposedto be owing to the fires lighted periodically by the Indians in order toclear their hunting-grounds.

  Toward one of these grassy glades, which was spread on an almostimperceptible acclivity, and which might have contained some fifty orsixty acres of land, the reader is now requested to turn his eyes. Farin the wilderness as was the spot, four men were there, and two of themhad even some of the appliances of civilization about them. The woodsaround were the then unpeopled forest of Michigan; and the small windingreach of placid water that was just visible in the distance, was anelbow of the Kalamazoo, a beautiful little river that flows westward,emptying its tribute into the vast expanse of Lake Michigan. Now, thisriver has already become known, by its villages and farms, and railroadsand mills; but then, not a dwelling of more pretension than the wigwamof the Indian, or an occasional shanty of some white adventurer,had ever been seen on its banks. In that day, the whole of that finepeninsula, with the exception of a narrow belt of country along theDetroit River, which was settled by the French as far back as near theclose of the seventeenth century, was literally a wilderness. If a whiteman found his way into it, it was as an Indian trader, a hunter, or anadventurer in some other of the pursuits connected with border life andthe habits of the savages.

  Of this last character were two of the men on the open glade justmentioned, while their companions were of the race of the aborigines.What is much more remarkable, the four were absolutely strangers to eachother's faces, having met for the first time in their lives, only anhour previously to the commencement of our tale. By saying that theywere strangers to each other, we do not mean that the white men wereacquaintances, and the Indians strangers, but that neither of the fourhad ever seen either of the party until they met on that grassy glade,though fame had made them somewhat acquainted through their reputations.At the moment when we desire to present this group to the imagination ofthe reader, three of its number were grave and silent observers ofthe movements of the fourth. The fourth individual was of middle size,young, active, exceedingly well formed, and with a certain openand frank expression of countenance, that rendered him at leastwell-looking, though slightly marked with the small-pox. His real namewas Benjamin Boden, though he was extensively known throughout thenorthwestern territories by the sobriquet of Ben Buzz--extensively asto distances, if not as to people. By the voyageurs, and other Frenchof that region, he was almost universally styled le Bourdon or the"Drone"; not, however, from his idleness or inactivity, but from thecircumstances that he was notorious for laying his hands on theproducts of labor that proceeded from others. In a word, Ben Boden wasa "bee-hunter," and as he was one of the first to exercise his craft inthat portion of the country, so was he infinitely the most skilful andprosperous. The honey of le Bourdon was not only thought to be purer andof higher flavor than that of any other trader in the article, but itwas much the most abundant. There were a score of respectable familieson the two banks of the Detroit, who never purchased of any one else,but who patiently waited for the arrival of the capacious bark canoe ofBuzz, in the autumn, to lay in their supplies of this savory nutrimentfor the approaching winter. The whole family of griddle cakes, includingthose of buckwheat, Indian rice, and wheaten flour, were more or lessdependent on the safe arrival of le Bourdon, for their popularity andwelcome. Honey was eaten with all; and wild honey had a reputation,rightfully or not obtained, that even rendered it more welcome than thatwhich was formed by the labor and art of the domesticated bee.

  The dress of le Bourdon was well adapted to his pursuits and life. Hewore a hunting-shirt and trousers, made of thin stuff, which was dyedgreen, and trimmed with yellow fringe. This was the ordinary forestattire of the American rifleman; being of a character, as it wasthought, to conceal the person in the woods, by blending its hues withthose of the forest. On his head Ben wore a skin cap, somewhat smartlymade, but without the fur; the weather being warm. His moccasins werea good deal wrought, but seemed to be fading under the exposure of manymarches. His arms were excellent; but all his martial accoutrements,even to a keen long-bladed knife, were suspended from the rammer of hisrifle; the weapon itself being allowe
d to lean, in careless confidence,against the trunk of the nearest oak, as if their master felt there wasno immediate use for them.

  Not so with the other three. Not only was each man well armed, but eachman kept his trusty rifle hugged to his person, in a sort of jealouswatchfulness; while the other white man, from time to time, secretly,but with great minuteness, examined the flint and priming of his ownpiece.

  This second pale-face was a very different person from him justdescribed. He was still young, tall, sinewy, gaunt, yet springy andstrong, stooping and round-shouldered, with a face that carried a verydecided top-light in it, like that of the notorious Bardolph. In short,whiskey had dyed the countenance of Gershom Waring with a tell-talehue, that did not less infallibly betray his destination than his speechdenoted his origin, which was clearly from one of the States of NewEngland. But Gershom had been so long at the Northwest as to havelost many of his peculiar habits and opinions, and to have obtainedsubstitutes.

  Of the Indians, one, an elderly, wary, experienced warrior, wasa Pottawattamie, named Elksfoot, who was well known at all thetrading-houses and "garrisons" of the northwestern territory, includingMichigan as low down as Detroit itself. The other red man was a youngChippewa, or O-jeb-way, as the civilized natives of that nation now tellus the word should be spelled. His ordinary appellation among his ownpeople was that of Pigeonswing; a name obtained from the rapidityand length of his flights. This young man, who was scarcely turnedof five-and-twenty, had already obtained a high reputation among thenumerous tribes of his nation, as a messenger, or "runner."

  Accident had brought these four persons, each and all strangers to oneanother, in communication in the glade of the Oak Openings, which hasalready been mentioned, within half an hour of the scene we are aboutto present to the reader. Although the rencontre had been accompaniedby the usual precautions of those who meet in a wilderness, it had beenfriendly so far; a circumstance that was in some measure owing to theinterest they all took in the occupation of the bee-hunter. The threeothers, indeed, had come in on different trails, and surprised leBourdon in the midst of one of the most exciting exhibitions of hisart--an exhibition that awoke so much and so common an interest in thespectators, as at once to place its continuance for the moment above allother considerations. After brief salutations, and wary examinations ofthe spot and its tenants, each individual had, in succession, given hisgrave attention to what was going on, and all had united in beggingBen Buzz to pursue his occupation, without regard to his visitors. Theconversation that took place was partly in English, and partly in oneof the Indian dialects, which luckily all the parties appeared tounderstand. As a matter of course, with a sole view to oblige thereader, we shall render what was said, freely, into the vernacular.

  "Let's see, let's see, STRANger," cried Gershom, emphasizing thesyllable we have put in italics, as if especially to betray his origin,"what you can do with your tools. I've heer'n tell of such doin's, butnever see'd a bee lined in all my life, and have a desp'rate fancy forlarnin' of all sorts, from 'rithmetic to preachin'."

  "That comes from your Puritan blood," answered le Bourdon, with a quietsmile, using surprisingly pure English for one in his class of life."They tell me you Puritans preach by instinct."

  "I don't know how that is," answered Gershom, "though I can turn my handto anything. I heer'n tell, across at Bob Ruly (Bois Brulk [Footnote:This unfortunate name, which it may be necessary to tell a portion ofour readers means "burnt wood," seems condemned to all sorts of abusesamong the linguists of the West. Among other pronunciations is that of"Bob Ruly"; while an island near Detroit, the proper name of which is"Bois Blanc," is familiarly known to the lake mariners by the name of"Bobolo."]) of sich doin's, and would give a week's keep at WhiskeyCentre, to know how 'twas done."

  "Whiskey Centre" was a sobriquet bestowed by the fresh-water sailorsof that region, and the few other white adventurers of Saxon origin whofound their way into that trackless region, firstly on Gershom himself,and secondly on his residence. These names were obtained from theintensity of their respective characters, in favor of the beveragenamed. L'eau de mort was the place termed by the voyagers, in a sortof pleasant travesty on the eau de vie of their distant, but stillwell-remembered manufactures on the banks of the Garonne. Ben Boden,however, paid but little attention to the drawling remarks of GershomWaring. This was not the first time he had heard of "Whiskey Centre,"though the first time he had ever seen the man himself. His attentionwas on his own trade, or present occupation; and when it wandered atall, it was principally bestowed on the Indians; more especially on therunner. Of Elk's foot, or Elksfoot, as we prefer to spell it, he hadsome knowledge by means of rumor; and the little he knew rendered himsomewhat more indifferent to his proceedings than he felt toward thoseof the Pigeonswing. Of this young redskin he had never heard; and, whilehe managed to suppress all exhibition of the feeling, a lively curiosityto learn the Chippewa's business was uppermost in his mind. As forGershom, he had taken HIS measure at a glance, and had instantly sethim down to be, what in truth he was, a wandering, drinking, recklessadventurer, who had a multitude of vices and bad qualities, mixed upwith a few that, if not absolutely redeeming, served to diminish thedisgust in which he might otherwise have been held by all decent people.In the meanwhile, the bee-hunting, in which all the spectators tookso much interest, went on. As this is a process with which most of ourreaders are probably unacquainted, it may be necessary to explain themodus operandi, as well as the appliances used.

  The tools of Ben Buzz, as Gershom had termed these implements of histrade, were neither very numerous nor very complex. They were allcontained in a small covered wooden pail like those that artisans andlaborers are accustomed to carry for the purpose of conveying theirfood from place to place. Uncovering this, le Bourdon had brought hisimplements to view, previously to the moment when he was first seen bythe reader. There was a small covered cup of tin; a wooden box; a sortof plate, or platter, made also of wood; and a common tumbler, of a veryinferior, greenish glass. In the year 1812, there was not a pane, nor avessel, of clear, transparent glass, made in all America! Now, some ofthe most beautiful manufactures of that sort, known to civilization, areabundantly produced among us, in common with a thousand other articlesthat are used in domestic economy. The tumbler of Ben Buzz, however, washis countryman in more senses than one. It was not only American, butit came from the part of Pennsylvania of which he was himself a native.Blurred, and of a greenish hue, the glass was the best that Pittsburgcould then fabricate, and Ben had bought it only the year before, on thevery spot where it had been made.

  An oak, of more size than usual, had stood a little remote from itsfellows, or more within the open ground of the glade than the rest ofthe "orchard." Lightning had struck this tree that very summer, twistingoff its trunk at a height of about four feet from the ground. Severalfragments of the body and branches lay near, and on these the spectatorsnow took their seats, watching attentively the movements of thebee-hunter. Of the stump Ben had made a sort of table, first levellingits splinters with an axe, and on it he placed the several implements ofhis craft, as he had need of each in succession.

  The wooden platter was first placed on this rude table. Then le Bourdonopened his small box, and took out of it a piece of honeycomb, that wascircular in shape, and about an inch and a half in diameter. The littlecovered tin vessel was next brought into use. Some pure and beautifullyclear honey was poured from its spout into the cells of the piece ofcomb, until each of them was about half filled. The tumbler was nexttaken in hand, carefully wiped, and examined, by holding it up beforethe eyes of the bee-hunter. Certainly, there was little to admire in it,but it was sufficiently transparent to answer his purposes. All he askedwas to be able to look through the glass in order to see what was goingon in its interior.

  Having made these preliminary arrangements, Buzzing Ben--for thesobriquet was applied to him in this form quite as often as in theother--next turned his attention to the velvet-like covering of thegrassy glade
. Fire had run over the whole region late that spring, andthe grass was now as fresh, and sweet and short, as if the place werepastured. The white clover, in particular, abounded, and was thenjust bursting forth into the blossom. Various other flowers hadalso appeared, and around them were buzzing thousands of bees. Theseindustrious little animals were hard at work, loading themselves withsweets; little foreseeing the robbery contemplated by the craft ofman. As le Bourdon moved stealthily among the flowers and their hummingvisitors, the eyes of the two red men followed his smallest movement, asthe cat watches the mouse; but Gershom was less attentive, thinking thewhole curious enough, but preferring whiskey to all the honey on earth.

  At length le Bourdon found a bee to his mind, and watching the momentwhen the animal was sipping sweets from a head of white clover, hecautiously placed his blurred and green-looking tumbler over it, andmade it his prisoner. The moment the bee found itself encircled with theglass, it took wing and attempted to rise. This carried it to the upperpart of its prison, when Ben carefully introduced the unoccupied handbeneath the glass, and returned to the stump. Here he set the tumblerdown on the platter in a way to bring the piece of honeycomb within itscircle.

  So much done successfully, and with very little trouble, Buzzing Benexamined his captive for a moment, to make sure that all was right. Thenhe took off his cap and placed it over tumbler, platter, honeycomb, andbee. He now waited half a minute, when cautiously raising the cap again,it was seen that the bee, the moment a darkness like that of its hivecame over it, had lighted on the comb, and commenced filling itself withthe honey. When Ben took away the cap altogether, the head and half ofthe body of the bee was in one of the cells, its whole attention beingbestowed on this unlooked-for hoard of treasure. As this was just whatits captor wished, he considered that part of his work accomplished. Itnow became apparent why a glass was used to take the bee, instead of avessel of wood or of bark. Transparency was necessary in order to watchthe movements of the captive, as darkness was necessary in order toinduce it to cease its efforts to escape, and to settle on the comb.

  As the bee was now intently occupied in filling itself, Buzzing Ben, orle Bourdon, did not hesitate about removing the glass. He even venturedto look around him, and to make another captive, which he placed overthe comb, and managed as he had done with the first. In a minute, thesecond bee was also buried in a cell, and the glass was again removed.Le Bourdon now signed for his companions to draw near.

  "There they are, hard at work with the honey," he said, speaking inEnglish, and pointing at the bees. "Little do they think, as theyundermine that comb, how near they are to the undermining of their ownhive! But so it is with us all! When we think we are in the highestprosperity we may be nearest to a fall, and when we are poorest andhum-blest, we may be about to be exalted. I often think of these things,out here in the wilderness, when I'm alone, and my thoughts are acTYVE."

  Ben used a very pure English, when his condition in life is remembered;but now and then, he encountered a word which pretty plainly proved hewas not exactly a scholar. A false emphasis has sometimes an influenceon a man's fortune, when one lives in the world; but it mattered littleto one like Buzzing Ben, who seldom saw more than half a dozen humanfaces in the course of a whole summer's hunting. We remember anEnglishman, however, who would never concede talents to Burr, becausethe latter said, a L'AmEricaine, EurOpean, instead of EuropEan.

  "How hive in danger?" demanded Elksfoot, who was very much of amatter-of-fact person. "No see him, no hear him--else get some honey."

  "Honey you can have for asking, for I've plenty of it already in mycabin, though it's somewhat 'arly in the season to begin to break inupon the store. In general, the bee-hunters keep back till August, forthey think it better to commence work when the creatures"--this wordBen pronounced as accurately as if brought up at St. James's, making itneither "creatur'" nor "creatOOre"--"to commence work when the creatureshave had time to fill up, after winter's feed. But I like the old stock,and, what is more, I feel satisfied this is not to be a common summer,and so I thought I would make an early start."

  As Ben said this, he glanced his eyes at Pigeonswing, who returned thelook in a way to prove there was already a secret intelligence betweenthem, though neither had ever seen the other an hour before.

  "Waal!" exclaimed Gershom, "this is cur'ous, I'll allow THAT; yes, it'scur'ous--but we've got an article at Whiskey Centre that'll put thesweetest honey bee ever suck'd, altogether out o' countenance!"

  "An article of which you suck your share, I'll answer for it, judgingby the sign you carry between the windows of your face," returned Ben,laughing; "but hush, men, hush. That first bee is filled, and begins tothink of home. He'll soon be off for HONEY Centre, and I must keep myeye on him. Now, stand a little aside, friends, and give me room for mycraft."

  The men complied, and le Bourdon was now all intense attention to hisbusiness. The bee first taken had, indeed, filled itself to satiety, andat first seemed to be too heavy to rise on the wing. After a few momentsof preparation, however, up it went, circling around the spot, as ifuncertain what course to take. The eye of Ben never left it, and whenthe insect darted off, as it soon did, in an air-line, he saw it forfifty yards after the others had lost sight of it. Ben took the range,and was silent fully a minute while he did so.

  "That bee may have lighted in the corner of yonder swamp," he said,pointing, as he spoke, to a bit of low land that sustained a growth ofmuch larger trees than those which grew in the "opening," "or it hascrossed the point of the wood, and struck across the prairie beyond,and made for a bit of thick forest that is to be found about three milesfurther. In the last case, I shall have my trouble for nothing."

  "What t'other do?" demanded Elksfoot, with very obvious curiosity.

  "Sure enough; the other gentleman must be nearly ready for a start,and we'll see what road HE travels. 'Tis always an assistance to abee-hunter to get one creature fairly off, as it helps him to line thenext with greater sartainty."

  Ben WOULD say acTYVE, and SARtain, though he was above saying creatoore,or creatur'. This is the difference between a Pennsylvanian anda Yankee. We shall not stop, however, to note all these littlepeculiarities in these individuals, but use the proper or the peculiardialect, as may happen to be most convenient to ourselves.

  But there was no time for disquisition, the second bee being now readyfor a start. Like his companion, this insect rose and encircled thestump several times, ere it darted away toward its hive, in an air-line.So small was the object, and so rapid its movement, that no one but thebee-hunter saw the animal after it had begun its journey in earnest. ToHIS disappointment, instead of flying in the same direction as thebee first taken, this little fellow went buzzing off fairly at a rightangle! It was consequently clear that there were two hives, and thatthey lay in very different directions.

  Without wasting his time in useless talk, le Bourdon now caught anotherbee, which was subjected to the same process as those first taken. Whenthis creature had filled it-self, it rose, circled the stump as usual,as if to note the spot for a second visit, and darted away, directly ina line with the bee first taken. Ben noted its flight most accurately,and had his eye on it, until it was quite a hundred yards from thestump. This he was enabled to do, by means of a quick sight and longpractice.

  "We'll move our quarters, friends," said Buzzing Ben, good-humoredly, assoon as satisfied with this last observation, and gathering together histraps for a start. "I must angle for that hive, and I fear it will turnout to be across the prairie, and quite beyond my reach for to-day."

  The prairie alluded to was one of those small natural meadows, orpastures, that are to be found in Michigan, and may have containedfour or five thousand acres of open land. The heavy timber of theswamp mentioned, jutted into it, and the point to be determined was, toascertain whether the bees had flown OVER these trees, toward which theyhad certainly gone in an air-line, or whether they had found their hiveamong them. In order to settle this material question, a new p
rocess wasnecessary.

  "I must 'angle' for them chaps," repeated le Bourdon; "and if youwill go with me, strangers, you shall soon see the nicest part of thebusiness of bee-hunting. Many a man who can 'line' a bee, can do nothingat an 'angle'."

  As this was only gibberish to the listeners, no answer was made, butall prepared to follow Ben, who was soon ready to change his ground.The bee-hunter took his way across the open ground to a point fully ahundred rods distant from his first position, where he found anotherstump of a fallen tree, which he converted into a stand. The sameprocess was gone through with as before, and le Bourdon was soonwatching two bees that had plunged their heads down into the cells ofthe comb. Nothing could exceed the gravity and attention of the Indians,all this time. They had fully comprehended the business of "lining" theinsects toward their hives, but they could not understand the virtue ofthe "angle." The first bore so strong an affinity to their own pursuitof game, as to be very obvious to their senses; but the last included aspecies of information to which they were total strangers. Nor were theymuch the wiser after le Bourdon had taken his "angle"; it requiring asort of induction to which they were not accustomed, in order to put theseveral parts of his proceedings together, and to draw the inference.As for Gershom, he affected to be familiar with all that was going on,though he was just as ignorant as the Indians themselves. This littlebit of hypocrisy was the homage he paid to his white blood: it beingvery unseemly, according to his view of the matter, for a pale-face notto know more than a redskin.

  The bees were some little time in filling themselves. At length oneof them came out of his cell, and was evidently getting ready for hisflight. Ben beckoned to the spectators to stand farther back, in orderto give him a fair chance, and, just as he had done so, the bee rose.After humming around the stump for an instant, away the insect flew,taking a course almost at right angles to that in which le Bourdon hadexpected to see it fly. It required half a minute for him to recollectthat this little creature had gone off in a line nearly parallel to thatwhich had been taken by the second of the bees, which he had seen quithis original position. The line led across the neighboring prairie, andany attempt to follow these bees was hopeless.

  But the second creature was also soon ready, and when it darted away, leBourdon, to his manifest delight, saw that it held its flight towardthe point of the swamp INTO, or OVER which two of his first captives hadgone. This settled the doubtful matter. Had the hive of these bees beenBEYOND that wood, the angle of intersection would not have been there,but at the hive across the prairie. The reader will understand thatcreatures which obey an instinct, or such a reason as bees possess,would never make a curvature in their flights without some strong motivefor it. Thus, two bees taken from flowers that stood half a mile apartwould be certain not to cross each other's tracks, in returning home,until they met at the common hive: and wherever the intersecting anglein their respective flights may be, there would that hive be also. Asthis repository of sweets was the game le Bourdon had in view, it iseasy to see how much he was pleased when the direction taken by thelast of his bees gave him the necessary assurance that its home wouldcertainly be found in that very point of dense wood.