After a little
while the warriors returned, ushering in another savage, still
more heroically arrayed.
This they announced as the chief of the
belligerent village, but as a great pacificator. His people had
been furiously bent upon the attack, and would have doubtless
carried it into effect, but this gallant chief had stood forth as
the friend of white men, and had dispersed the throng by his own
authority and prowess. Having vaunted this signal piece of
service, there was a significant pause; all evidently expecting
some adequate reward. Mr. Hunt again produced the pipe, smoked
with the chieftain and his worthy compeers; but made no further
demonstrations of gratitude. They remained about the camp all
night, but at daylight returned, baffled and crestfallen, to
their homes, with nothing but smoke for their pains.
Mr. Hunt now endeavored to procure canoes, of which he saw
several about the neighborhood, extremely well made, with
elevated stems and sterns, some of them capable of carrying three
thousand pounds weight. He found it extremely difficult, however,
to deal with these slippery people, who seemed much more inclined
to pilfer. Notwithstanding a strict guard maintained round the
camp, various implements were stolen, and several horses carried
off. Among the latter, we have to include the long-cherished
steed of Pierre Dorion. From some wilful caprice, that worthy
pitched his tent at some distance from the main body, and
tethered his invaluable steed beside it, from whence it was
abstracted in the night, to the infinite chagrin and
mortification of the hybrid interpreter.
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