“There is one speaking now, who seems to have authority.”

“Yes—­he chief—­know he voice—­hear him too often—­he mean to put Pigeonswing to torture.  Well, let him catch Pigeonswing fust—­swift bird do that, eh?”

“But what says he?—­it may be of importance to learn what the chief says, just now.”

“Who care what he say—­can’t do nuttin’—­if get good chance, take his scalp, too.”

“Aye, that I dare say—­but he is speaking earnestly and in a low voice; listen, and let us know what he says.  I do not well understand at this distance.”

The Chippewa complied, and maintained an attentive silence until the chief ceased to speak.  Then he rendered what had been said into such English as he could command, accompanying the translation by the explanations that naturally suggested themselves to one like himself.

“Chief talk to young men,” said the Chippewa—­“all chief talk to young men—­tell him dat Pigeonswing must get off in canoe—­don’t see canoe, nudder—­but, muss be canoe, else he swim.  T’ink more than one Injin here—­don’t know, dough—­maybe, maybe not—­can’t tell, till see trail, morrow morning—­”

“Well, well; but what does he tell his young men to do?” demanded the bee-hunter, impatiently.

“Don’t be squaw, Bourdon—­tell all by’em bye.  Tell young men s’pose he get canoe, den he may get our canoe, and carry ’em off—­s’pose he swim; dat Chippewa devil swim down stream and get our canoe dat fashion—­bess go back, some of you, and see arter our canoe—­dat what he tell young men most.”

“That is a lucky thought!” exclaimed le Bourdon—­“let us paddle down, at once, and seize all their canoes before they can get there.  The distance by water, owing to this bend in the river, is not half as great as that by land, and the marsh will double the distance to them.”

“Dat good counsel,” said Pigeonswing—­“you go—­I follow.”

This was no sooner said, than the canoes again got in motion.  The darkness might now have been a sufficient protection had there been no rice, but the plant would have concealed the movement, even at noon-day.  The fire in the hut served as a beacon, and enabled le Bourdon to find the canoes.  When he reached the landing, he could still hear the dogs barking on the marsh, and the voices of those with them, calling in loud tones to two of the savages who had remained at the chiente, as a sort of camp-guard.

“What do them chaps say?” asked le Bourdon of the Chippewa.  “They yell as if striving to make the two men at the door of the hut hear them.  Can you make out what they are bawling so loud?”

“Tell two warrior to come down and take care of canoe—­dat all—­let ’em come—­find two here to take care of dem—­got good scalp, them two rascal Pottawattamie!”

“No—­no—­Pigeonswing—­we must have no more of that work to-night, but must set about towing these four canoes off the shore as fast as we can.  Have you got hitches on your two?”