"
"Got scalp of dat Weasel! Wasn't dat well done? Nebber no young
warrior take more scalp home dan Pigeonswing carry dis time! Got
t'ree; all hid, where Bear's Meat nebber know. Take 'em away, when
he get ready to march."
"Well, well, Chippewa--I suppose it will not be easy to reason you
out of this feelin'--but what has become of the red-skins who burned
my cabin, and who killed the missionary and the corporal?"
"All about--dough must go down river. Look here, Bourdon, some of
dem chief fool enough to t'ink bee carry you off on his wing!"
Here the Chippewa looked his contempt for the credulity and
ignorance of the others, though he did not express it after the
boisterous manner in which a white man of his class might have
indulged. To him le Bourdon was a good fellow, but no conjuror, and
he understood the taking of the bee too well to have any doubts as
to the character of that process. His friend had let him amuse
himself by the hour in looking through his spy-glass, so that the
mind of this one savage was particularly well fortified against the
inroads of the weaknesses that had invaded those of most of the
members of the great council.
Pages:
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705