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Updated: June 28, 2025
At first the Pottawattamie did not perceive that the prisoner was unbound. He threw him into shadow by his own person, and it required a close look to note the circumstance. Boden was too far from the spot to see all the minor movements of the parties, but there was soon a struggle that could not be mistaken.
"Good time, now, get more scalps, Bourdon," said the Chippewa, in his clipping, sententious English. "It is a good time, too, to keep our own, Chippewa," was the answer. "Your scalp-lock is too long, to be put before Pottawattamie eyes without good looking after it." "Nebber mind him if go, go; if stay, stay. Always good for warrior to bring home scalp."
"Pottawattamie got capital scalp dog's ears no good for nutting any more." "Yonder, I believe, is the tree I am in search of!" exclaimed le Bourdon. "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.
Even while speaking, the bee-hunter advanced, and raising a sort of shawl, that once had been used as an ornament, and which had last been thrown carelessly over the head of its late owner, he exposed the well-known features of Elks-foot, the Pottawattamie, who had left them little more than twenty-four hours before!
All this time, the Chippewa had taken little visible interest in the state of the party to which he had now attached himself. The previous evening had been fertile in excitement and in gratification, and he had since slept and ate to his entire content. He was ready to meet events as they might arise, and began to plot the means of obtaining more Pottawattamie scalps.
You redskins don't know everything, Pigeonswing, though you are so keen and quick-witted on a trail." "Bess not tell Pottawattamie any more 'bout springs," answered the Chippewa, gravely; for by this time he regarded the state of things in the openings to be so serious as to feel little disposition to mirth. "Why you don't go home, eh? Why don't med'cine-man go home, too?
The people were sleeping with one eye open. All day, stragglers from the wedding procession had been coming in, and a company was organized for defense and pursuit. They had heard that the whole Pottawattamie nation had risen. And since Celeste Barbeau was kidnaped, anything might be expected.
On hearing this, Peter turned slowly to the missionary, raising a finger as one makes a gesture to give emphasis to his words. "Tole you so," said the Indian. "Know dere was Pottawattamie dere. Can tell 'em great way off." "We fear them, having women in our party," added the bee-hunter, "and think they might fancy our scalps." "Dat like enough; all Injin love scalp in war-time.
"Because you know that I had had the precaution to throw a blanket over it in the most approved Pottawattamie style, while my features were colored with gambouge and Indian ink." "Well, say no more about that I am ashamed to have been so taken in by a Johnny Raw. We will now suppose you kicked out of the Fort.
About a quarter of a mile beyond Ouilmettes, and immediately opposite to the Pottawattamie encampment, from which it was divided only by the river, was another small but neat dwelling. This belonged to Mr.
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