As for Peter, he was more confounded than convinced. His mind was so much superior to those of the other chiefs, as to render him far more difficult to mislead; though even he was not exempt from the great weaknesses of ignorance, superstition, and its concomitants--credulity, and a love of the marvellous. His mind was troubled, as was quite apparent to Ben, who watched HIM quite as narrowly as he was observed himself, in all he did. Willing to deepen the impression, our artist now determined to exhibit some of the higher fruits of his skill. The production of a considerable quantity of honey would of itself be a sort of peace-offering, and he now prepared to turn the certainty of there being a hive in the little wood to account--certainty, because three bees had taken wing for it, and a very distinct angle had been made with two of them. “Does my brother wish any honey?” asked le Bourdon carelessly; “or shall I send a bee across Lake Michigan, to tell the Injins further west that Detroit is taken?” “Can Bourdon find honey, NOW?” demanded Peter. “Easily. Several hives are within a mile of us. The bees like this prairie, which is so well garnished with flowers, and I am never at a loss for work, in this neighborhood. This is my favorite bee-ground; and I have got all the little creatures so that they know me, and are ready to do everything that I tell them. As I see that the chiefs love honey, and wish to eat some, we will now go to one of my hives.” Thus saying, le Bourdon prepared for another march. He moved with all his appliances, Margery keeping close at his side, carrying the honey-comb and honey. As the girl walked lightly, in advance of the Indians, some fifteen or twenty bees, attracted by the flavor of what she carried, kept circling around her head, and consequently around that of Boden; and Peter did not fail to observe the circumstance. To him it appeared as if these bees were so many accompanying agents, who attended their master in order to do his bidding. In a word, Peter was fast getting into that frame of mind, when all that is seen is pressed into the support of the theory we have adopted. The bee-hunter had some mysterious connection with, and control over the bees, and this was one among the many other signs of the existence of his power. All this, however, Boden himself disregarded. His mind was bent on throwing dust into the eyes of the Indians; and he was cogitating the means of so doing, on a much larger scale than any yet attempted. “Why dem bee fly 'round young squaw?” demanded Peter--“and fly round you, too?” “They know us, and go with us to their hive; just as Injins would come out of their villages to meet and honor visitors.”