“Dat like enough; all Injin love scalp in war-time.  You Yankee, dey Br’ish; can’t travel on same path now, and not quarrel.  Must not let Pottawattamie catch you.”

“How are we to help it, now you have come in?  We had all the canoes on this side of the river, and were pretty safe, but should you cross and place your canoe in their hands, there is nothing to prevent them from doing what they please with us.  If you will promise not to cross the river till we can get out well on the lake, we may shift our ground, however, and leave no trail.”

“Muss cross over—­yes, muss cross over, else Pottawattamie t’ink it strange—­yes, muss cross over.  Shan’t touch canoe, dough.”

“How can you help it, if they be so minded?  You are but a single man, and they are twenty.”

On hearing this, Corporal Flint pricked up his ears, and stood if possible more erect than ever, for he considered himself a part of a man at least, and one moreover who had served in all the wars of the west, from the great battle of St. Glair to that of Mad Anthony.  He was spared the necessity of a reply, however, for Peter made a significant gesture which as much as told him that he would take that office on himself.

“No need be afeard,” said Peter, quietly.  “Know Pottawattamie—­know all chief.  Nobody touch canoe of Onoah when he say don’t touch him.”

“Yet they are Injins of the British, and I see you here in company with a soldier of Uncle Sam.”

“No matter; Onoah go just where he please.  Sometime to Pottawattamie; sometime to Iroquois.  All Ojebways know Onoah.  All Six Nation know him well.  All Injin know him.  Even Cherokee know him now, and open ears when he speak.  Muss cross river, and shake hand with Crowsfeather.”

There was nothing boastful, or vaunting, in Peter’s manner while he thus announced his immunity or power, but he alluded to it in a quiet, natural way, like one accustomed to being considered a personage of consequence.  Mankind, in general, make few allowances for the influence of habit; the sensibilities of the vainglorious themselves being quite as often wounded by the most natural and direct allusions of those who enjoy advantages superior to their own, as by those that are intended to provoke comparisons.  In the present instance, however, no such feeling could exist, the Indian asserting no more than his extended reputation would fully maintain.

When Peter had thus expressed himself, the missionary thought it meet to add a few words in explanation.  This he did, however, aside, walking a little apart with the bee-hunter, in order so to do.  As for Gershom, no one seemed to think him of sufficient importance to throw away any interest or care on him.

“You can trust to Peter, friend bee-hunter,” the missionary observed, “for what he promises he will perform.  I know him well, and have put myself altogether in his hands.  If he says that the Pottawattamies are not to have his canoe, the Pottawattamies will not get it.  He is a man to be depended on.”