A moment's
reflection, however, convinced him that such could not be the case.
"Canfiel'! Canfiel'!"
"What do you want, Oonomoo?"
"Go down bank--wait for us--Miami won't hurt."
The young soldier did as he requested, and the next moment saw the two
canoes put out from the rock. In the first were the four Miamis, and
in the second Oonomoo and Heigon, the latter using the paddle. They
touched a point on the shore about a hundred yards down-stream, almost
at the same moment that it was reached by the Lieutenant.
"How-de-do, brudder?" asked the foremost, extending his hand. The
soldier exchanged similar greetings with the others, when at a signal
the five seated themselves upon the ground, and he followed suit. A
pipe, the "calumet of peace," was produced and passed from mouth to
mouth, each one smoking slowly and solemnly a few whiffs.
This tedious ceremony occupied fully a half-hour, during which it was
nearly impossible for the young Lieutenant to conceal his impatience.
It seemed to him nothing but a sheer waste of time, and he wondered how
Oonomoo could take it so composedly. At length the last smoker had
taken what he evidently believed the proper number of whiffs, and they
arose and embarked again in their canoes.
In the boat, which really belonged to the Huron, were seated himself,
Lieutenant Canfield, and Heigon, who insisted upon using the paddle
himself. For a moment they glided along under the shadow of the wooded
bank, and then, coming out on the clear, moonlit surface of the river,
they shot downstream like swallows upon the wing.
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