United States or Cabo Verde ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Even among the men of the logs, who are bad, one man stands alone as the archfiend of them all. And now it is possible, for he is a big man she, Wa-ha-ta-na-ta, the mother of Pierre and of Jeanne, maybe is permitted to stoop close and breathe upon the dead face of this man the weird curse of the barren lands almost forgotten, now, even among her own people the blighting curse of the "Yaga Tah!"
"At the midnight the man unrolled his blankets and laid down to sleep, and then it was that Jeanne stepped into the firelight. And in the deep shadow, Wa-ha-ta-na-ta gripped more tightly the knife and made ready to strike." The half-breed paused while the others waited breathlessly for him to resume. "Think not that Jeanne is bad. She is good, and her heart is the pure heart of a maiden.
He would die, of course; but he wouldn't die yet! And when he did die, he would fall to die he would never lie down to die! It was not far off, he knew that fall, when he would never get up. He wondered who would find them; Blood River Jack, probably. As he leaned into the whirling, cutting wind, he thought of Jeanne and of his promise to Wa-ha-ta-na-ta.
For Wa-ha-ta-na-ta, knowing of the fatherless breeds of the rivers, hated all white men, and a great fear was in her heart for the girl, who is her daughter, and the daughter of Lacombie whom, she says, was the one good white man; but Lacombie is dead. "So always in the days of the summer, when these two would leave the lodge to visit the deserted camp of Moncrossen, Wa-ha-ta-na-ta followed them.
"The third evening it came and the man camped, and Jeanne crept close and watched him across the blaze of his little fire as he smoked and stared into the embers. While Wa-ha-ta-na-ta also crept stealthily to the fire, making no sound, and she came to within an arm's reach of the man's back, and in her hand was clutched tightly the sheath-knife with its long, keen blade.
"Wa-ha-ta-na-ta, in the last extremity of her need, is calling and I must go to her. "Oh, can't you see?" he cried suddenly, as the look of horror deepened upon the face of his wife. "Darling only long enough to give her aid then I will return! Surely, surely, dear, you trust me! You will believe in me just this once! When I return to you I will explain all I can't wait, now good-by!"
Breakfast over, the three men accompanied by Jeanne set out for the river, leaving to old Wa-ha-ta-na-ta the work of the camp. Sliding a canoe into the water, they took their places, Jacques and Wabishke at the paddles, with Jeanne and Bill seated on the bottom amidships.
The man slowly shook his head: "No, Jeanne, it is impossible. Come, we will return to the lodge of Jacques. I myself will tell Wa-ha-ta-na-ta that no harm has befallen you, and " "Do you think she will believe you? Wa-ha-ta-na-ta, who hates all white men and, next to Moncrossen, you most of all, for she has seen that I love you. We have been gone three nights. She will not believe you.
She thinks we came away together. Wa-ha-ta-na-ta was married; we are not married; we cannot go back." The man rolled the blankets and buckled the straps of his pack-sack. He was about to swing it to his shoulders when the girl grasped his arm. "I love you," she repeated, "and I will go with you." "But, Jeanne," the man cried, "this cannot be. I cannot marry you.
She winced at the word but the tense, almost fierce expression of his face, the occasional spasmodic clenching of the great fists, could scarcely accompany a man's thoughts of his wife of an hour. Of Moncrossen? she wondered. Of the shooting of Jacques? Of the attack upon her? Of Wa-ha-ta-na-ta?
Word Of The Day