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Updated: May 26, 2025
Just as Madame Joseph was bringing the cheese, Benard, whose workshop was near by, made his appearance. He was still a full-bodied, jovial fellow, and began to jest with his sister-in-law while showing great politeness towards Mathieu, whom he thanked for taking interest in his unhappy wife's condition.
As it cleared, the two pursuers saw that their quarry had turned inshore, moving obliquely towards a tree-crowned bluff that jutted out into the lake. Jean Bènard marked the move, and spoke almost gleefully. "Dey fear zee snow, an' go to make camp. By zee mass, we get dem like a wolf in zee trap!"
Someone with Jean Bènard?" "No," answered Stane slowly, "it was the Indian girl, Miskodeed." "Miskodeed!" cried Helen in utter surprise. "Yes! I did not know it at the time, but we found her afterwards, Jean Bènard and I. It was a dreadful discovery. Jean had come back to his cabin, hoping to marry her, and she had died for me!" "Oh," sobbed Helen in a sudden accession of grief.
They marched up the lake five hundred yards or more, the camp behind them maintaining the silence of the dead, then Bènard halted. "Now," he said, "we weel talk!" Pointing his pistol at the Indian and speaking in the patois of the tribe, he addressed him. "What means the attack upon my cabin?" "I know nothing," mumbled the Indian, shaking with fear or cold.
This narrative is meagre and confused, but serves to establish the main points. Pere Rebald au Pere de Beaubois, sans date. Bienville was behind his time in geographical knowledge. As early as 1724 Benard de la Harpe knew that in ascending the Missouri or the Arkansas one was moving towards the "Western Sea," that is, the Pacific, and might, perhaps, find some river flowing into it.
Jean Bènard, or I'm a sinner!" Jean Bènard it was, and his face lighted with pleasure as he staggered into the camp. "I fear for you, m'sieu," he said to Stane in simple explanation, "therefore I come. Bo'jour, M'sieu Anderton, dis ees a good meeting on zee bad day! But dat surely dat ees Chigmok? An' zee mees where ees she?" Stane waved a hand towards the lake.
Stane looked at the island and marked the position of the creek, then an idea struck him. "Would it not be better, Bènard, if we removed our camp to the island? We could then surprise Chigmok when he came." "Non, m'sieu! I tink of dat las' night; but I remember dat we must build a fire, an' zee smoke it tell zee tale; whilst zee odour it ees perceived afar.
His heart leaped at the sight, and the next moment he was running towards the camp. "Jean! Jean!" he cried. "Jean Bènard!" The sleeping man passed from slumber to full wakefulness with the completeness that characterizes a healthy child. "Ah, m'sieu," he said, standing upright. "Dey haf arrive?" "I do not know. But there is a dog-train a long way up the lake."
"M'sieu! m'sieu! It ees time to eat!" Stane rubbed his eyes and looked round. Then he stood upright and stretched himself, every stiff muscle crying out against the process. He looked at the waiting breakfast and then at Bènard.
But when he turned the corner of the cliff, it was to find Jean Bènard fast asleep in front of the fire, and though his first impulse was to waken him, he refrained, remembering how tired the man must be, and how necessary it was that he should be as fresh as possible when the moment for action arrived. "No," he whispered, as he looked at the bent form of the sleeping man.
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