All this, however, Boden
himself disregarded. His mind was bent on throwing dust into the
eyes of the Indians; and he was cogitating the means of so doing, on
a much larger scale than any yet attempted.
"Why dem bee fly 'round young squaw?" demanded Peter--"and fly round
you, too?"
"They know us, and go with us to their hive; just as Injins would
come out of their villages to meet and honor visitors."
This was a ready reply, but it scarcely satisfied the wily savage to
whom it was given. Just then Crowsfeather led Peter a little aside,
and began talking earnestly to that chief, both continuing on with
the crowd. Le Bourdon felt persuaded that the subject of this
private conference was some of his own former backslidings in the
character of conjuror, and that the Pottawattamie would not deal
very tenderly with his character. Nevertheless, it was too late to
retrace his steps, and he saw the necessity of going on.
"I wish you had not come out with us," the bee-hunter found an
occasion to say to Margery. "I do not half like the state of things,
and this conjuration about the bees may all fall through."
"It is better that I should be here, Bourdon," returned the spirited
girl.
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