“It’s you—­it’s you,” replied her husband, seeing the mistake he had made.  “I doesn’t do nottings—­I doesn’t do nottings; it’s my wife, my good Keewaygooshturkumkankangewock, dat does it all.  She’s a very nice squaw, de same shape all de way down.”

These concessions and compliments greatly soothed the feelings of the incensed spouse.  She scolded her husband no more.

“What you going to do, my dear frau?” he asked, in a voice as cooing and winning as a dove’s.

“Going to work, to plant the corn, to get food for you and Quanonshet and Madokawandock when the snow falls.”

“Very kind, clever woman; good frau is mine Keewaygooshturkumkankangewock.”

“What are you going to do?” asked the wife, as the two passed out the wigwam.

“Going to shmoke and meditate—­meditate hard,” replied Hans Vanderbum, impressively.

“Can’t you think as well while you’re fishing?”

“I shpose I can; if my Keewaygooshturkumkankangewock t’inks so, I can.”

“Well, she thinks so.”

The fact that his wife “thought so” was equivalent to a command with Hans.  He manifested no unwillingness or reluctance in obeying.  Accordingly, he furnished himself with a hook, line and bait, and set out for the river.

It was now getting well along in the forenoon, the sun being above the tree-tops.  The Shawnee Indians had left their wigwams to engage in their daily avocations.  The women were mostly toiling in the field, their pappooses hanging from the trees or leaning against their trunks.  The older children were frolicking through the woods, or fishing or hunting.  A few warriors and old men still lounged about the wigwams, but the majority either were engaged in the hunt, or were upon the war-trail.

Stolid and indifferent as was the nature of Hans, it struck him that there was something unusual in the appearance and actions of the Indians.  It seemed as though some startling event had occurred from which they had not fully recovered.  They were uneasy and restless in their movements, constantly passing to and from the river.  Upon reaching the banks of the latter, the Dutchman found a considerable number already there.  They were not engaged in fishing, but lay close to the edge of the water, as if they expected the appearance of something upon its surface.  Had he been a little more observant, there was something else which would have attracted his attention, on his passage through the woods.  Fully a dozen times a peculiar sound, like the whistle of a bird, reached his ears, and he supposed it to be nothing more, although it did seem odd to him that the bird should follow him almost to the river bank.  Besides this, he caught a flitting glimpse of an Indian now and then, some distance in the woods, that appeared to be watching him; but Hans did not care, even if such were the case, and he paid no further heed to him.