"If we can reach that tree, I think all will go well with
us."
The tree was reached, and the bee-hunter proceeded to make sure of
his course from that point. Removing from his pouch a small piece of
moistened powder that he had prepared ere he liberated the Chippewa,
he stuck it on a low branch of the tree he was under, and on the
side next the spot where he had stationed Margery. When this was
done, he made his companion stand aside, and lighting some spunk
with his flint and steel, he fired his powder. Of course, this
little preparation burned like the fireworks of a boy, making
sufficient light, however, to be seen in a dark night for a mile or
more. No sooner was the wetted powder hissing and throwing off its
sparks, than the bee-hunter gazed intently into the now seemingly
tangible obscurity of the marsh. A bright light appeared and
vanished. It was enough; the bee-hunter threw down his own signal
and extinguished it with his foot; and, as he wished, the lantern of
Margery appeared no more. Assured now of the accuracy of his
position, as well as of the course he was to pursue, le Bourdon bade
his companion follow, and pressed anew across the marsh.
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