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Updated: June 13, 2025
Jean Baptiste's festival, no word of the past, of the time when Charley turned aside the revanche of justice from a man called Joseph Nadeau, had been spoken between them. Out of the delirium of his drunken trance had come Charley's recognition of the man he knew now as Jo Portugais. But the recognition had been sent again into the obscurity whence it came, and had not been mentioned since.
No use um now. Jacques Baptiste's father had made the trip for the Fur Company in the old days, incidentally marking the trail with a couple of frozen toes. Sufferin' cracky! cried another of the party. 'No whites? 'Nary white, Sloper sententiously affirmed; 'but it's only five hundred more up the Yukon to Dawson. Call it a rough thousand from here. Weatherbee and Cuthfert groaned in chorus.
What is the matter with Monsieur Mallard?" "Some kind of fever. On St. Jean Baptiste's day he was taken ill, and that animal Portugais took care of him all night I wonder how M'sieu' can have the creature about! That St. Jean Baptiste's night was an awful night. Have you heard of what happened, M'sieu'? Ghost or no ghost "
Men, you all want to go back home, and when you go you'll want to put on your soft clothes, and you won't go till you can go in good style; but where did the prodigal get his good clothes? Quick came the answer in Baptiste's shrill voice 'From de old fadder! No one was surprised, and the minister went on
The poor lad's face became much redder than the legs or beak of the gull as he sat down in confusion, which he sought to hide by busily reloading his gun; while the men indulged in a somewhat witty and sarcastic criticism of his powers of shooting, remarking, in flattering terms, on the precision of the shot that blew Baptiste's feather into atoms, and declaring that if every shot he fired was as truly aimed, he would certainly be the best in the country.
What is the matter with Monsieur Mallard?" "Some kind of fever. On St. Jean Baptiste's day he was taken ill, and that animal Portugais took care of him all night I wonder how M'sieu' can have the creature about! That St. Jean Baptiste's night was an awful night. Have you heard of what happened, M'sieu'? Ghost or no ghost "
Nelson, who had had charge of the camp. The men cheered wildly, Baptiste's shrill voice leading all. Nelson being called upon, expressed in a few words his pleasure at seeing the Boss back, and thanked the men for their support while he had been in charge.
Angelique did not speak with much anxiety, not because she was indifferent, but because she felt so secure in their good fortune. Only good things could happen to a rich, energetic, handsome young man like Amedee, with a new baby in the cradle and a new header in the field. Emil stroked the black fuzz on Baptiste's head.
The crowning interest of her life had come all at the last moment, as it were, and she had gone away almost gladly and with a kind of pride. Rosalie also had a hidden pride: the secret was now her very own hers and M'sieu's. It was St. Jean Baptiste's day, and French Canada was en fete.
A mile down the red road from the bungalow, looking like a huge beehive with its heavy enveloping roof of thatch, that was Jean Baptiste's head-quarters, was a particularly sacred pipal of huge growth. It was an extraordinary octopus-like tree, and most sacred, for perched in the embrace of its giant arms was a shrine that had been lifted from its base in the centuries of the tree's growth.
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