Log-houses are of so common occurrence, as to require no particular description of the one now put up, from us.  It was rather less than thirty feet in length, and one-third narrower than it was long.  The logs were notched, and the interstices were filled by pieces of the pine, split to a convenient size.  The roof was of bark, and of the simplest construction, while there was neither door nor window; though one aperture was left for the first, and two for the last.  Corporal Flint, however, was resolved that not only a door should be made, as well as shutters for the windows, but that the house should, in time, be picketed.  When le Bourdon remonstrated with him on the folly of taking so much unnecessary pains, it led to a discussion, in which the missionary even felt constrained to join.

“What’s the use—­what’s the use?” exclaimed le Bourdon a little impatiently, when he found the corporal getting to be in earnest in his proposal.  “Here have I lived, safely, two seasons in Castle Meal, without any pickets or palisades; and yet you want to turn this new house into a regular garrison!”

“Aye, Bourdon, that was in peaceable times; but these is war times.  I’ve seen the fall of Fort Dearborn, and I don’t want to see the fall of another post this war.  The Pottawattamies is hostile, even Peter owns; and the Pottawattamies has been here once, as you say yourself, and may come ag’in.”

“The only Pottawattamie who has ever been at this spot, to my knowledge, is dead, and his bones are bleaching up yonder in the openings.  No fear of him, then.”

“His body is gone,” answered the corporal; “and what is more the rifle is gone with it.  I heard that his rifle had been forgotten, and went to collect the arms left on the field of battle, but found nothing.  No doubt his friends have burned, or buried, the chief, and they will be apt to take another look in this quarter of the country, having l’arnt the road.”

Boden was struck with this intelligence, as well as with the reasoning, and after a moment’s pause, he answered in a way that showed a wavering purpose.

“It will take a week’s work, to picket or palisade the house,” he answered, “and I wish to be busy among the bees, once more.”

“Go to your bees, Bourdon, and leave me to fortify and garrison, as becomes my trade.  Parson Amen, here, will tell you that the children of Israel are often bloody-minded and are not to be forgotten.”

“The corporal is right,” put in the missionary; “the corporal is quite right.  The whole history of the ancient Jews gives us this character of them; and even Saul of Tarsus was bent on persecution and slaughter, until his hand was stayed by the direct manifestation of the power of God.  I can see glimmerings of this spirit in Peter, and this at a moment when he is almost ready to admit that he’s a descendant of Israel.”

“Is Peter ready to allow that?” asked the bee-hunter, with more interest in the answer than he would have been willing to allow.