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Updated: June 24, 2025
This country is a wilderness, and there are no soldiers hereabouts, to cut each other's throats." "What you t'ink him?" asked Pigeonswing, glancing at Gershom; who, unable to forbear any longer, had gone to the spring to mix a cup from a small supply that still remained of the liquor with which he had left home. "Got pretty good scalp?"
Scarce had the young man got out of sight, ere Pigeonswing joined his confederate, for it seems that this faithful friend had kept on the skirts of the enemy the whole time, travelling hundreds of miles, and enduring hunger and fatigue, besides risking his life at nearly every step, in order to be of use to those whom he considered himself pledged to serve.
Then, I like wheaten bread, and butter, and potatoes, and many other such articles, that I was used to all my life, until I came out here, close to sunset. As for pies and custards, I can't bear to think of 'em now!" Pigeonswing looked intently at the woman, as she carefully enumerated her favorites among the dishes of her home-kitchen.
The bee-hunter fairly sighed, and from a very resolute he became a very irresolute sort of person. As was natural to one in his situation, he let out the secret current his thoughts had taken, in the remarks which followed. "I do not like the manner in which Peter and Pigeonswing are now talking together," he said. "When an Injin is so earnest, there is generally mischief brewing.
"Chief talk to young men," said the Chippewa "all chief talk to young men tell him dat Pigeonswing must get off in canoe don't see canoe, nudder but, muss be canoe, else he swim. T'ink more than one Injin here don't know, dough maybe, maybe not can't tell, till see trail, morrow morning " "Well, well; but what does he tell his young men to DO?" demanded the bee-hunter, impatiently.
He was perfectly aware of the state of the Chippewa's feelings, and he knew that this man was hostile to the Pottawattamies, as well as to most of the tribes of Michigan; but this made no difference with him. If Pigeonswing took the scalp of a white man, he cared not whether it grew on an English or an American head; in either case it was the destruction of his enemy.
About the hour of breakfast Pigeonswing came in, as if returning from one of his ordinary hunts. He brought with him venison, as well as several wild ducks that he had killed in the Kalamazoo, and three or four prairie hens. The Chippewa never betrayed exultation at the success of his exertions, but on this occasion he actually appeared sad.
"I am but a peaceable bee-hunter, as you see, and wish no man's scalp, or any man's honey but my own. Is there to be a war between America and Canada, or not?" "Some say, yes; some say, no," returned Pigeonswing, evasively, "My part, don't know. Go, now, to see. But plenty Montreal belt among redskins; plenty rifle; plenty powder, too."
Pigeonswing had told him of the fate of the last, as well as of the eagerness with which the band had set out in quest of more white scalps. "Peter, we can count on you for a friend, I hope?" said the bee- hunter, as the two were about to part, on the bank of the river. "I fear you were, once, our enemy!"
"Yes; dat de way pale-face squaw feel. Bess go back, and get what she like. Bess go quick as she can go today." "I'm in no such hurry, Pigeonswing, and I like these Openings well enough to stay a while longer, and see what all these Injins, that they tell me are about 'em, mean to do. Now we are fairly among your people, and on good terms with them, it is wisest to stay where we are.
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