The sight of the fleet of canoes, in the straits of Michillimackinac, caused the fugitives the only real trouble they had felt, between the time when they left the mouth of the Kalamazoo, and the ten days that succeeded. By the end of that period the party had crossed Saginaw, and was fast coming up with Point au Barques, a landmark for all who navigate the waters of Huron, when a canoe was seen coming out from under the land, steering as if to intercept them. This sight gave both concern and pleasure; concern, as it might lead to a hostile encounter, and pleasure, because the bee-hunter hoped for information that might be useful in governing his future course. Here his glass came in play, with good effect. By means of that instrument, it was soon ascertained that the strange canoe contained but two men, both Indians, and as that was just their own force no great danger was apprehended from the meeting. The craft, therefore, continued to approach each other, le Bourdon keeping his glass levelled on the strangers much of the time. “As I live, yonder are Peter and Pigeonswing,” suddenly exclaimed our hero. “They have crossed the Peninsula, and have come out from the point, in that canoe, to meet us.” “With important news, then, depend on it, Benjamin,” answered the wife. “Tell this to brother, that he and Dolly may not feel more alarm than is necessary.” The bee-hunter called out to his friends in the other canoe, and communicated the discovery just made, the two craft keeping always within hailing distance of each other. “Them Injins are not here for nothing,” answered Dorothy. “You will find they have something serious to say.” “We shall soon know,” called out le Bourdon. “Ten minutes will bring us alongside of them.” The ten minutes did that much, and before the expiration of the short space, the three canoes were fastened together, that of Peter being in the centre. The bee-hunter saw, at a glance, that the expedition of the Indians had been hurried; for their canoe, besides being of very indifferent qualities, was not provided with the implements and conveniences usual to a voyage of any length. Still, he would not ask a question, but lighting his pipe, after a few puffs, he passed it courteously over to Peter. The great chief smoked a while, and gave it to Pigeonswing, in his turn, who appeared to enjoy it quite as much as any of the party. “My father does not believe he is a Jew?” said le Bourdon, smiling; willing to commence a discourse, though still determined not to betray a womanish curiosity. “We are poor Injins, Bourdon; just as the Great Spirit made us. Dat bess. Can't help what Manitou do. If he don't make us Jew, can't be Jew. If he make us Injin, muss be Injin. For my part, b'lieve I'm Injin, and don't want to be pale-face. Can love pale-face, now, juss as well as love Injin.”