“I suppose it is as good as another’s—­but he and I are countrymen, and we cannot raise the tomahawk on one another.”

“Don’t t’ink so.  Plenty Yankee, him!”

Le Bourdon smiled at this proof of Pigeonswings sagacity, though he felt a good deal of uneasiness at the purport of his discourse.

“You are right enough in that” he answered, “but I’m plenty of Yankee, too.”

“No, don’t say so,” returned the Chippewa—­“no, mustn’t say dat.  English; no Yankee.  Him not a bit like you.”

“Why, we are unlike each other, in some respects, it is true, though we are countrymen, notwithstanding.  My great father lives at Washington, as well as his.”

The Chippewa appeared to be disappointed; perhaps he appeared sorry, too; for le Bourdon’s frank and manly hospitality had disposed him to friendship instead of hostilities, while his admissions would rather put him in an antagonist position.  It was probably with a kind motive that he pursued the discourse in a way to give his host some insight into the true condition of matters in that part of the world.

“Plenty Breetish in woods,” he said, with marked deliberation and point.  “Yankee no come yet.”

“Let me know the truth, at once, Chippewa,” exclaimed le Bourdon.  “I am but a peaceable bee-hunter, as you see, and wish no man’s scalp, or any man’s honey but my own.  Is there to be a war between America and Canada, or not?”

“Some say, yes; some say, no,” returned Pigeonswing, evasively, “My part, don’t know.  Go, now, to see.  But plenty Montreal belt among redskins; plenty rifle; plenty powder, too.”

“I heard something of this as I came up the lakes,” rejoined Ben; “and fell in with a trader, an old acquaintance, from Canada, and a good friend, too, though he is to be my enemy, according to law, who gave me to understand that the summer would not go over without blows.  Still, they all seemed to be asleep at Mackinaw (Michilimackinac) as I passed there.”

“Wake up pretty soon.  Canada warrior take fort.”

“If I thought that, Chippewa, I would be off this blessed night to give the alarm.”

“No—­t’ink better of dat.”

“Go I would, if I died for it the next hour!”

“T’ink better—­be no such fool, I tell you.”

“And I tell you, Pigeonswing, that go I would, if the whole Ojebway nation was on my trail.  I am an American, and mean to stand by my own people, come what will.”

“T’ought you only peaceable bee-hunter, just now,” retorted the Chippewa, a little sarcastically.