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Updated: May 3, 2025
I got shake him in his blanket. Wake moch slow. Say feel moch bad. All tam sleepy. Can't stan' up. Can't eat not'ing. So we put him in the wagon and go. "Bam-by say stop! Say can't go no furder. Wagon too moch shake. So we lay him on the ground in his blankets. We wait a while. T'ink maybe get better. Afternoon spell no better. He say no goin' get better. Say to me go get Sam.
All foolishness! Yo'ng people lak babies. Throw down their food. Bam-by got cry for it." Musq'oosis drew his hands together and tried to place the woman's hand that he held in the man's. Both resisted, and he had not strength enough. "Well good-bye," he sighed. Instantly Sam took Bela's hand, and hers crept into his as if at home there. The old man smiled faintly.
I want jump in river; but the priest say that is a bad thing. "I can' go back to Watusk's teepee no more. If he touch me I got kill him! That is bad, too! I don't know what to do! I want be good so I see my fat'er bam-by!" Ambrose groaned. She thought he was relenting, and came and wound her arms about him. "Tak' me wit' you," she pleaded like a little child. "I be good, Angleysman!"
If ot'er men think you want the cook, they kill him maybe. White men sometam crazy lak that. You mus' all same mak' friends wit' all. Ask moch question. Watch them well. When you know their ways, you know what to do. Bam-by maybe you get your man to leave the ot'ers. Then it is easy." "I do all you tell me," promised Bela. "Come home to-morrow night," he said. She rebelled at this. "No.
He will keep you goin' poor. Be patient, my fat'er say. 'This is rich country. It is known outside. Bam-by some white man come wit' outfit and pay good prices. "Always my fat'er try to have no trouble," continued Tole. "But old man Gaviller hear about the meetings at our house. He hear everyt'ing. He write a letter to my fat'er that the men mus' come no more. "My fat'er write back.
Bam-by I t'ink they come together." "What horse was she on?" Garth demanded. "Nick Grylls's big roan," she answered. "They mak' a bag for her to sit in. She sit one side; Mary Co-que-wasa sit the other." "Find the roan's tracks," ordered Garth. Rina shook her head. "I never follow that horse," she said. "Find the heaviest tracks then!"
"If he is kill for cause of me I get a bad name around. A girl can't have no bad name." They laughed with light scorn. "You're done for already," Joe said. "Nobody knows him," said Jack. "He'll never be missed. We'll take good care he ain't found, neither." "The police will know," insisted Bela. "They can smell blood. Bam-by maybe you mad at each ot'er. One will tell." This was a shrewd shot.
She can't see his face no more for blood. She think he got no face now. Michel he see her come, and say to her loud as he can: 'Go way! Go way! You get hurt and John Gaviller give me hell! "Colina say not know what to do. Them two turn around so fas' she 'fraid to shoot. She run aroun' and aroun' them always looking for a chance. Bam-by she see the handle of Michel's knife in a hole in the snow.
"Bam-by she hear a fonny little noise way off. Twigs crackling, and somesing bumping and tromping in the snow. Colina think it is big game and go quick. Some tam she stop and listen. Bam-by she hear fonny snarling and grunting. She know there is a fight and she is a little scare. But she go more fas'. "Wa! Wa! What a sight she sec there! Poor Michel he pretty near done.
She mad for cause my fat'er all tam talk with me." "Three years ago!" said Ambrose. "You must have been a little girl then!" "I fourteen year old then. My mot'er got 'not'er osban' now. Common man. They gone with Buffalo Lake people. I not care. All tam I think of my fat'er. He is one fine man. "Las' summer the priest come here. Mak' good talk, him. Say if we good, bam-by we see the dead again.
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