“Certainly--most certainly,” answered the well-meaning missionary--“the fortune-tellers of old times often went to their bees when they wished to look into the future. It has been a subject much talked of among Christians, to account for the soothsaying, and witchcraft, and other supernatural dealings of those who lived in the times of the prophets; and most of them have held the opinion that evil spirits have been--nay, still are permitted to work their will on certain men in the flesh. But bees were in much favor with the soothsayers of old.” This answer was given in English, and little of it was comprehended by Peter, and the others who had more or less knowledge of that language, beyond the part which asserted the agency of bees in witchcraft. Luckily, this was all le Bourdon desired, and he was well satisfied at seeing that the idea passed from one chief to another; those who did not know the English at all, being told by those who had some knowledge of the tongue, that “bees were thought to be 'medicine' among the pale-faces.” Le Bourdon gained a great deal of ground by this fortunate corroboration of his own still more fortunate thought Matters were pretty nearly desperate with him, and with all his friends, should Peter really meditate evil; and as desperate diseases notoriously require remedies of the same character, he was ready to attempt anything that promised even the smallest chance of success. “Yes, yes--” the bee-hunter pursued the discourse by saying--“bees know a great deal. I have sometimes thought that bees know more than bears, and my brother must be able to tell something of them?” “Yes; my name is Bear's Meat,” answered that chief, complacently. “Injin always give name that mean somet'ing. Kill so many bear one winter, got dat name.” “A good name it is! To kill a bear is the most honorable thing a hunter can do, as we all know. If my brother wishes to hear it, I will ask my bees when he is to kill another.” The savage to whom this was addressed fairly started with delight. He was eagerly signifying his cheerful assent to the proposal, when Peter quietly interposed, and changed the discourse to himself, in a way that he had, and which would not easily admit of denial. It was apparent to le Bourdon that this mysterious Indian was not content that one so direct and impetuous in his feelings as Bear's Meat, and who was at the same time so little qualified to manage his portion of an intellectual conversation, should be foremost any longer. For that reason he brought himself more into the foreground, leaving to his friend the capacity of listener and observer, rather than that of a speaker and actor. What took place under this new arrangement, will appear as the narrative proceeds. CHAPTER XX.