CHAPTER XIX. 

And stretching out, on either hand, O'er all that wide and unshorn land, Till weary of its gorgeousness, The aching and the dazzled eye Rests, gladdened, on the calm, blue sky. --WHITTIER. 

No other disturbance occurred in the course of the night. With the dawn, le Bourdon was again stirring; and as he left the palisades to repair to the run, in order to make his ablutions, he saw Peter returning to Castle Meal. The two met; but no allusion was made to the manner in which the night had passed. The chief paid his salutations courteously; and, instead of repairing to his skins, he joined le Bourdon, seemingly as little inclined to seek for rest, as if just arisen from his lair. When the bee-hunter left the spring, this mysterious Indian, for the first time, spoke of business. 

"My brother wanted to-day to show Injin how to find honey," said Peter, as he and Bourdon walked toward the palisades, within which the whole family was now moving. "I nebber see honey find, myself, ole as I be." 

"I shall be very willing to teach your chiefs my craft," answered the bee-hunter, "and this so much the more readily, because I do not expect to pracTYSE it much longer, myself; not in this part of the country, at least." 

"How dat happen?--expec' go away soon?" demanded Peter, whose keen, restless eye would, at one instant, seem to read his companion's soul, and then would glance off to some distant object, as if conscious of its own startling and fiery expression. "Now Br'ish got Detroit, where my broder go? Bess stay here, I t'ink." 
Who had trouble finding honeys?
"My brother wanted to-day to show Injin how to find honey," said Peter