Although the fellows doubtless knew who we were, so far as our assumed characters went, and had probably been advised of our approach, this bait took, and there was a general jumping up and down, and a common pow-wowing among them, indicative of the pleasure such a proposal gave. In a minute the whole party were around us, with some eight or ten more who appeared from the nearest bushes. We were helped out of the wagon with a gentle violence that denoted their impatience. As a matter of course, I expected that all the trinkets and watches, which were of little value, fortunately, would immediately disappear; for who could doubt that men engaged in attempting to rob on so large a scale as these fellows were engaged in, would hesitate about doing a job on one a little more diminutive. I was mistaken, however; some sort of imperceptible discipline keeping those who were thus disposed, of whom there must have been some in such a party, in temporary order. The horse was left standing in the middle of the highway, right glad to take his rest, while we were shown the trunk of a fallen tree, near by, on which to place our box of wares. A dozen watches were presently in the hands of as many of these seeming savages, who manifested a good deal of admiration at their shining appearance. While this scene, which was half mummery and half nature, was in the course of enactment, the chief beckoned me to a seat on the further end of the tree, and, attended by one or two of his companions, he began to question me as follows: "Mind tell truth," he said, making no very expert actor in the way of imitation. "Dis 'Streak o' Lightning,'" laying his hand on his own breast, that I might not misconceive the person of the warrior who bore so eminent a title; "no good lie to him--know ebbery t'ing afore he ask, only ask for fun--what do here, eh?" "Ve coomes to see der Injins and der beoples at der village, dat ve might sell our vatches." "Dat all; sartain?--can call 'down rent,' eh?" "Dat ist ferry easy; 'down rent, eh?'" "Sartain Jarman, eh?--you no spy?--you no sent here by gubbernor, eh?--landlord no pay you, eh?" "Vhat might I spy? Dere ist nothin' do spy, but mans vid calico faces. Vhy been you afraid of der governor?--I dinks der governors be ferry goot frients of der anti-rents." "Not when we act this way. Send horse, send foot a'ter us, den. T'ink good friend, too, when he dare." "He be d----d!" bawled out one of the tribe, in as good, homely, rustic English as ever came out of the mouth of a clown. "If he's our friend, why did he send the artillery and horse down to Hudson?--and why has he had Big Thunder up afore his infarnal courts? He be d----d!"