that seemed most likely to defeat the wishes of those he hated.  Among the last was Peter, whose known ascendancy in his own particular tribe had been a source of great envy and uneasiness to this Indian.  He had struggled hard to resist it, and had even dared to speak in favor of the pale-faces, and in opposition to the plan of cutting them all off, purely with a disposition to oppose this mysterious stranger.  It had been in vain, however; the current running the other way, and the fiery eloquence of Peter proving too strong even for him.  Now, to his surprise, from a few words dropped casually, this man ascertained that their greatest leader was disposed so far to relent, as not to destroy all the pale-faces in his power.  Whom, and how many he meant to spare, Ungque could not tell; but his quick, practised discernment detected the general disposition, and his ruthless tendency to oppose, caused him to cast about for the means of resisting this sudden inclination to show mercy.  With the Weasel, the moving principle was ever that of the demagogue; it was to flatter the mass that he might lead it; and he had an innate hostility to whatever was frank, manly, and noble.

The time had now come when the Indians wished to be alone.  At this council it was their intention to come to an important decision; and even the “young men,” unless chiefs, were to be merely distant spectators.  Peter sent for le Bourdon, accordingly, and communicated his wish that all the whites would return to the castle, whither he promised to join them about the setting of the sun, or early the succeeding day.

“One of you, you know—­dat my wigwam,” said the grim chief, smiling on Margery with a friendly eye, and shaking hands with the bee-hunter, who thought his manner less constrained than on former similar occasions.  “Get good supper for ole Injin, young squaw; dat juss what squaw good for.”

Margery laughingly promised to remember his injunction, and went her way, closely attended by her lover.  The corporal followed, armed to the teeth, and keeping at just such a distance from the young people, as might enable them to converse without being overheard.  As for the missionary, he was detained a moment by Peter, the others moving slowly, in order to permit him to come up, ere they had gone their first mile.  Of course, the mysterious chief had not detained Parson Amen without a motive.

“My brother has told me many curious things,” said Peter, when alone with the missionary, and speaking now in the language of the Ojebways—­“many very curious things.  I like to listen to them.  Once he told me how the pale-face young men take their squaws.”

“I remember to have told you this.  We ask the Great Spirit to bless our marriages, and the ceremony is commonly performed by a priest.  This is our practice, Peter; though not necessary, I think it good.”

“Yes; good alway for pale-face to do pale-face fashion, and for Injin to do Injin fashion.  Don’t want medicine-man to get red-skin squaw.  Open wigwam door, and she come in.  Dat ’nough.  If she don’t wish to come in, can’t make her.  Squaw go to warrior she likes; warrior ask squaw he likes.  But it is best for pale-face to take his wife in pale-face fashion.  Does not my brother see a young man of his people, and a young maiden, that he had better bring together and bless?”