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Murmurs of approbation were heard, and Crowsfeather addressed the throng, there, where it stood, encircling the two helpless and as yet but half-alarmed victims of so fell a plot. "My brothers and my young men can now see," said this Pottawattamie, "that the tribeless chief has an Injin heart. His heart is NOT a pale-face heart it is that of a red man.
"I had heard something of this," answered le Bourdon, with a saddened countenance, "and was afraid it might happen." "My brother dig up hatchet too, eh?" demanded Pigeonswing. "Why should I? I am alone here, on the Openings, and it would seem foolish in me to wish to fight." "Got no tribe no Ojebway no Pottawattamie, eh?"
"Tribe, Pottawattamie," added the runner, in the same sententious manner. "Baccy, good" put in the senior, by way of showing he was well contented with his comforts. "Have you nothin' to drink?" demanded Whiskey Centre, who saw no great merit in anything but "firewater." "There is the spring," returned le Bourdon, gravely; "a gourd hangs against the tree."
That the Pottawattamie would neglect this latter caution le Bourdon did not believe; and his mind was made up, not only to attempt the rescue of his Chippewa friend, but to attempt it at once. After explaining his plan in a few words, and requesting Waring's assistance, le Bourdon took a solemn leave of the party, and proceeded at once toward the hut.
To the House of Representatives: I transmit to the House of Representatives a report from the Treasury Department, in compliance with the resolution of the House of Representatives of the 3d ultimo, calling for the correspondence in relation to locating a cession of lands made or intended to be made by the Pottawattamie tribe of Indians for the benefit of the State of Indiana, etc.
A warrior called Pigeonswing, whom you had in thongs, intending to torture him in the morning. He cut his thongs, and shot your young man after which he took his scalp." "How know dat?" demanded the Cloud, a little fiercely. "You 'long, and help kill Pottawattamie, eh?" "I know it," answered le Bourdon, coolly, "because medicine-men know most of what happens.
Plenty of Pottawattamie about dat lodge, sartain; and it very hard if don't get some on him scalp. You mean stop, and dig up cache; eh, Bourdon?" The cool, quiet manner in which Pigeonswing revealed his own plans, and inquired into those of his friend, had, at least, the effect to revive the confidence of le Bourdon.
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.
"They cannot be counted," returned the Pottawattamie chief, as soon as his restraint was a little removed by this less terrific aspect of his companion, "if all I hear is true. Blackbird says that even the squaws of the pale-faces are numerous enough to overcome all the red men that remain."
"Chaw him up, like so much 'baccy," answered the Chippewa "yes, chaw him up, lest Pottawattamie get hold on him, and ask one of King George's men to read him. No good to hab letter in sich times." "The general who employed you to carry that letter, will scarce thank you for your care." "Yes, he do t'ank all same pay all same letter no use now." "How can you know that?
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