icked every cur out of doors, and threw the cats out of the
window; after which, his spleen being in some measure relieved, he went
into a council of war with Govert Lockerman, the skipper, assisted by
Anthony Van Corlear, the trumpeter.

CHAPTER XI.

The eyes of all New Amsterdam were now turned to see what would be the end
of this direful feud between William the Testy and the patron of
Rensellaerwick; and some, observing the consultations of the governor with
the skipper and the trumpeter, predicted warlike measures by sea and land.
The wrath of William Kieft, however, though quick to rise, was quick to
evaporate. He was a perfect brush-heap in a blaze, snapping and crackling
for a time, and then ending in smoke. Like many other valiant potentates,
his first thoughts were all for war, his sober second thoughts for
diplomacy.

Accordingly Govert Lockerman was once more despatched up the river in the
company's yacht, the Goed Hoop, bearing Anthony the Trumpeter as
ambassador, to treat with the belligerent powers of Rensellaersteen. In
the fulness of time the yacht arrived before Bearn Island, and Anthony the
Trumpeter, mounting the poop, sounded a parly to the forces. In a little
while the steeple-crowned hat of Nicholas Koorn, the wacht-meester, rose
above the battlements, followed by his iron visage, and ultimately his
whole person, armed, as before, to the very teeth; while one by one a
whole row of Helderbergers reared their round burly heads above the wall,
and beside each pumpkin-head peered the end of a rusty musket. Nothing
daunted by this formidable array, Anthony Van Corlear drew forth and read
with audible voice a missive from William the Testy, protesting against
the usurpation of Bearn Island, and ordering the garrison to quit the
premises, bag and baggage, on pain of the vengeance of the potentate of
the Manhattoes.

In reply, the wacht-meester applied the thumb of his right hand to the end
of his nose, and the thumb of the left hand to the little finger of the
right, and spreading each hand like a fan, made an aerial flourish with
his fingers. Anthony Van Corlear was sorely perplexed to understand this
sign, which seemed to him something mysterious and masonic. Not liking to
betray his ignorance, he again read with a loud voice the missive of
William the Testy, and again Nicholas Koorn applied the thumb of his right
hand to the end of his nose, and the thumb of his left hand to the little
fin