The instant the canoe touched the shore, and it was only a moment
after it broke through the cover, le Bourdon arose, and extending
his hand to the nearest Indian, saluted him with the mongrel term of
"Sago." A slight exclamation from this warrior communicated to his
companion an arrival that was quite as much a matter of surprise to
the Indians as to their guest, and through this second warrior to
the whole party on the hill-side. A little clamor succeeded, and
presently the bee-hunter was surrounded with savages.
The meeting was marked by the self-command and dignified quiet that
are so apt to distinguish the deportment of Indian warriors, when
they are on the war-path, and alive to the duties of manhood. The
bee-hunter shook hands with several, who received his salutations
with perfect calmness, if not with absolute confidence and amity.
This little ceremony gave our hero an opportunity to observe the
swarthy countenances by which he was surrounded, most of which were
fierce in their paint, as well as to reflect a little on his own
course. By a fortunate inspiration he now determined to assume the
character of a "medicine man," and to connect his prophecies and
juggleries with this lucky accident of the whiskey.
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