“I wish there were fewer of them, and that them few were farther from Castle Meal,” put in le Bourdon, with point.  “I have known all along that Peter meant to have a great council; but will own, now that I have seen something of it, I do not find it quite as much to my mind as I had expected it would be.”

“There’s a strong force on ’em,” said the corporal, “and a hard set be they to look at.  When a man’s a young soldier, all this paint, and shaving of heads, and rings in noses and ears, makes some impression; but a campaign or two ag’in’ the fellows soon brings all down to one color and one uniform, if their naked hides can be so called.  I told ’em off, Bourdon, and reconn’itred ’em pretty well, while they was a making speeches; and, in my judgment, we can hold good the garrison ag’in’ ’em all, if so be we do not run short of water.  Provisions and water is what a body may call fundamentals, in a siege.”

“I hope we shall have no need of force—­nay, I feel persuaded there will not be,” said Parson Amen.  “Peter is our friend; and his command over these savages is wonderful!  Never before have I seen red men so completely under the control of a chief.  Your men at Fort Dearborn, corporal, were scarcely more under the orders of their officers, than these red-skins are under the orders of this chief!”

“I will not go to compare rig’lars with Injins, Mr. Parson,” answered the corporal, a little stiffly.  “They be not of the same natur’ at all, and ought not to be put on a footing, in any particular.  These savages may obey their orders, after a fashion of their own; but I should like to see them manoeuvre under fire.  I’ve fit Injins fourteen times, in my day, and have never seen a decent line, or a good, honest, manly, stand-up charge, made by the best among ’em, in any field, far or near.  Trees and covers is necessary to their constitutions, just as sartain as a deer chased will take to water to throw off the scent.  Put ’em up with the baggonet, and they’ll not stand a minute.”

“How should they, corporal,” interrupted le Bourdon laughing, “when they’ve no baggonets of their own to make a stand with?  You put one in mind of what my father used to say.  He was a soldier in revolution times, and sarved his seven years with Washington.  The English used to boast that the Americans wouldn’t ’stand up to the rack,’ if the baggonet was set to work; ’but this was before we got our own toothpicks,’ said the old man.  ’As soon as they gave us baggonets, too, there was no want of standing up to the work.’  It seems to me, corporal, you overlook the fact that Injins carry no baggonets.”

“Every army uses its own weapons.  If an Injin prefers his knife and his tomahawk to a baggonet, it is no affair of mine.  I speak of a charge as I see it; and the soldier who relies on a tomahawk instead of a baggonet, should stand in his tracks, and give tomahawk play.  No, no, Bourdon, seeing is believing.  These red-skins can do nothing with our people, when our people is properly regimented, well officered, and thoroughly drilled.  They’re skeary to new beginners—­ that I must acknowledge—­but beyond that I set them down as nothing remarkable as military men.”