A minute later the Chippewa felt the
thongs giving way, and his arms were released at the elbows. An arm
was next passed round his body, and the fastenings at the wrist were
cut. 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
also his knees. Of all the fastenings none now remained but that
which bound the captive to the tree. In not cutting this, the bee-
hunter manifested his coolness and judgment; for were the stout rope
of bark severed, the Indian would have fallen like a log, from total
inability to stand. His thongs had impeded the circulation of the
blood, and the usual temporary paralysis had been the consequence.
Pigeonswing understood the reason of his friend's forbearance, and
managed to rub his hands and wrists together, while the bee-hunter
himself applied friction to his feet, by passing his own arms around
the bottom of the tree. The reader may imagine the intense anxiety
of Margery the while; for she witnessed the arrival of le Bourdon at
the tree, and could not account for the long delay which succeeded.
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