The ten minutes did that much, and before the expiration of the short space, the three canoes were fastened together, that of Peter being in the centre. The bee-hunter saw, at a glance, that the expedition of the Indians had been hurried; for their canoe, besides being of very indifferent qualities, was not provided with the implements and conveniences usual to a voyage of any length. Still, he would not ask a question, but lighting his pipe, after a few puffs, he passed it courteously over to Peter. The great chief smoked a while, and gave it to Pigeonswing, in his turn, who appeared to enjoy it quite as much as any of the party.
“My father does not believe he is a Jew?” said le Bourdon, smiling; willing to commence a discourse, though still determined not to betray a womanish curiosity.
“We are poor Injins, Bourdon; just as the Great Spirit made us. Dat bess. Can't help what Manitou do. If he don't make us Jew, can't be Jew. If he make us Injin, muss be Injin. For my part, b'lieve I'm Injin, and don't want to be pale-face. Can love pale-face, now, juss as well as love Injin.”
“Oh, I hope this is true, Peter,” exclaimed Margery, her handsome face flushing with delight, at hearing these words. “So long as your heart tells you this, be certain that the Spirit of God is in you.”
Peter made no answer, but he looked profoundly impressed with the novel feeling that had taken possession of his soul. As for the bee-hunter, he did not meddle with Margery's convictions or emotions on such subjects, resembling, in this particular, most men, who, however indifferent to religion in their own persons, are never sorry to find that their wives profoundly submit to its influence. After a short pause, a species of homage involuntarily paid to the subject, he thought he might now inquire into the circumstances that brought the Indians on their route, without incurring the imputation of a weak and impatient curiosity. In reply, Peter's story was soon told. He had rejoined the chiefs without exciting distrust, and all had waited for the young men to bring in the captives. As soon as it was ascertained that the intended victims had escaped, and by water, parties proceeded to different points, in order to intercept them. Some followed in canoes, but, being less bold in their navigation than the bee-hunter, they did not make the straits until some time after the fugitives had passed. Peter, himself, had joined Bear's Meat and some twenty warriors who had crossed the Peninsula, procured canoes at the head of Saginaw Bay, and had come out at Point au Barques, the very spot our party was now approaching, three days before its arrival.
Tired with waiting, and uncertain whether his enemies had not got the start of him, Bear's Meat had gone into the river below, intending to keep his watch there, leaving Peter at the Point, with three young men and one canoe, to have a lookout. These young men the great chief had found an excuse for sending to the head of the Bay, in quest of another canoe, which left him, of course, quite alone on the Point. Scarce had the young man got out of sight, ere Pigeonswing joined his confederate, for it seems that this faithful friend had kept on the skirts of the enemy the whole time, travelling hundreds of miles, and enduring hunger and fatigue, besides risking his life at nearly every step, in order to be of use to those whom he considered himself pledged to serve.
Of course, Peter and Pigeonswing understood each other. One hour after they joined company, the canoes of the fugitives came in sight, and were immediately recognized by their sails. They were met, as has been mentioned, and the explanations that we have given were made before the party landed at the Point.
It was something to know where the risk was to be apprehended; but le Bourdon foresaw great danger. He had brought his canoes, already, quite five hundred miles, along a hazardous coast—though a little craft, like one of those he navigated, ran less risk, perhaps, than a larger vessel, since a shelter might, at any time, be found within a reasonable distance for it. From Pointe au Barques to the outlet of the lake was less than a hundred miles more. This outlet was a river, as it is called—a strait, in fact—which communicates with the small shallow lake of St. Clair, by a passage of some thirty miles in length. Then the lake St. Clair was to be crossed about an equal distance, when the canoes would come out in what is called the Detroit River, a strait again, as its name indicates. Some six or eight miles down this passage, and on its western side, stands the city of Detroit, then a village of no great extent, with a fort better situated to repel an attack of the savages, than to withstand a siege of white men. This place was now in the possession of the British, and, according to le Bourdon's notion, it was scarcely less dangerous to him than the hostility of Bear's Meat and his companions.
Delay, however, was quite as dangerous as anything else. After cooking and eating, therefore, the canoes continued their course, Peter and Pigeonswing accompanying them, though they abandoned their own craft. Peter went with the bee-hunter and Margery, while the Chippewa took a seat and a paddle in the canoe of Gershom. This change was made in order to put a double power in each canoe, since it was possible that downright speed might become the only means of safety.
The wind still stood at the westward, and the rate of sailing was rapid. About the close of the day the party drew near to the outlet, when Peter directed the sails to be taken in. This was done to prevent their being seen, a precaution that was now aided by keeping as near to the shore as possible, where objects so small and low would be very apt to be confounded with others on the land.