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outlet of any sort about the hut. Everything was tightly closed, and
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it was impossible to say when, or whence, a bullet might not be sent
against the unwary.
The plan was soon formed, and was quite as rapidly executed. Bough
of the Oak, himself, supported by two or three other braves,
undertook to set the buildings on fire. This was done by approaching
the kitchen, dodging from tree to tree, making each movement with a
rapidity that defeated aim, and an irregularity that defied
calculation. In this way the kitchen was safely reached, where there
was a log cover to conceal the party. Here also was fire, the food
for dinner being left, just as it had been put over to boil, not
long before. The Indians had prepared themselves with arrows and
light wood, and soon they commenced sending their flaming missiles
toward the roof of the hut. Arrow after arrow struck, and it was not
long before the roof was on fire.
A yell now arose throughout the Openings. Far and near the Indians
exulted at their success. The wood was dry, and it was of a very
inflammable nature. The wind blew, and in half an hour Castle Meal
was in a bright blaze. Hive now began to howl, a sign that he knew
his peril. Still, no human being appeared. Presently the flaming
roof fell in and the savages listened intently to hear the screeches
of their victims. The howls of the dog increased, and he was soon
seen, with his hair burned from his skin, leaping on the unroofed
wall, and thence into the area within the palisades. A bullet
terminated his sufferings as he alighted.
Bear's Meat now gave the signal, and a general rush was made. No
rifle opposed them, and a hundred Indians were soon at the
palisades. To the surprise of all, the gate was found unfastened.
Rushing within, the door of the hut was forced, and a view obtained
of the blazing furnace within. The party had arrived in sufficient
season to perceive fragments of le Bourdon's rude furniture and
stores yet blazing, but nowhere was a human corpse visible. Poles
were got, and the brands were removed, in the expectation of finding
bones beneath them; but without success. It was now certain that no
pale-face had perished in that hut. Then the truth flashed on the
minds of all the savages: le Bourdon and his friends had taken the
alarm in time, and had escaped!
CHAPTER XXVI.
Behold, O Lord! the heathen tread
The branches of thy fruitful vine,
That its luxurious tendrils spread
O'er all the hills of Palestine.
And now the wild boar comes to waste
Even us, the greenest boughs and last.
That, drinking of its choicest dew,
On Zion's hill in beauty grew.
--MILMAN.
The change in Peter had been gradually making itself apparent, ever
since he joined the party of the bee-hunter. When he entered the
Kalamazoo, in the company of the two men who had now fallen the
victims of his own designs, his heart was full of the fell intention
of cutting off the whole white race. Margery had first induced him
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to think of exceptions. He had early half-decided that she should be
spared, to be carried to his own lodge, as an adopted daughter. When
he became aware of the state of things between his favorite and her
lover, there was a severe struggle in his breast on the subject of
sparing the last. He saw how strongly the girl was attached to him,
and something like human sentiments forced their way among his
savage plans. The mysterious communication of le Bourdon with the
bees, however, had far more influence in determining him to spare so
great a medicine-man, than Margery's claims; and he had endeavored
to avail himself of a marriage as a means of saving the bride,
instead of saving the bridegroom. All the Indians entertained a
species of awe for le Bourdon, and all hesitated about laying hands
on one who appeared so gifted. It was, therefore, the expectation of
this extraordinary being that the wife might be permitted to escape
with the husband. The effect of The Weasel's cunning has been
described. Such was the state of Peter's mind when he met the band
in the scenes last described. There he had been all attention to the
demeanor of the missionary. A hundred times had he seen warriors die [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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