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Updated: June 24, 2025
But if you whip Bateese and you can not do that in a hundred years of fighting I will not tell you why my Jeanne shot at you behind the rock. Non, never! Yet I swear I will tell you the other. If you win, I will tell you all I know about Roger Audemard, and that is considerable, m'sieu. Do you agree?" Slowly David held out a hand. St. Pierre's gripped it.
See wit' thees han's I br'ak your neck an' t'row you in river. MA BELLE Jeanne say do zat, an' she tell oder mans-twent', thirt', almos' hundre' GARCONS to keel you if you try run away. She tell me bring zat word to you wit' ze feesh. You listen hard w'at I say?" If ever a worker of iniquity lived on earth, Carrigan might have judged Bateese as that man in these moments.
A dozen steps carried him round a projecting thumb of brush, and he could see the open shore where the bateau was tied. Marie-Anne had crossed the strip of sand, and Bateese was helping her into a waiting York boat. Then Bateese shoved it off, and the four men in it began to row.
He was a little shocked and felt also the impropriety of the thing. The idea of being lugged off like a baby was embarrassing, even in the presence of the one who had deliberately put him in his present condition. Bateese did the thing with such beastly ease. It was as if he was no more than a small boy, a runt with no weight whatever, and Bateese was a man.
He did not see the age-old face of Nepapinas "The Wandering Bolt of Lightning" as the bent and tottering Cree called upon all his eighty years of experience to bring him back to life. And he did not see Bateese, stolid-faced, silent, nor the dead-white face and wide-open, staring eyes of Jeanne Marie-Anne Boulain as her slim, white fingers worked with the old medicine man's.
"You must not quarrel, children," she said. "Bateese, you are steering badly." She reached out her hands, and without a word David gave her the gloves. With her palm and fingers she caressed them softly, yet David saw little lines of doubt come into her white forehead. "They are pretty and soft, M'sieu David. Surely they can not hurt much! Some day when St.
Bateese say, 'Keel him, so no wan know w'at happen t'ree day ago behin' ze rock. But MA BELLE Jeanne, she say, 'No, Bateese, he ees meestake for oder man, an' we mus' let heem live. An' then she tell me to come an' bring you feesh, an' tell you w'at is goin' happen if you try go away from thees bateau. You COMPREN'? If you try run away, Bateese ees goin' keel you!
In an hour she was back, bringing Mary, Bateese Otter's widow. Mary, according to the standards of the settlement, was a paragon of virtue. Gilbert Beattie grinned. "Here is Mary Otter," said Bela calmly. "She poor. She goin' live with me. I guess she is respectable. She live in the mission before, and scrub the floors. Père Lacombe tell her come live wit' me. Is that all right?"
I have something to do in the cabin and will return in a little while." He wondered if she had gone back to settle the matter with Bateese at once, for it was clear that she did not regard with favor the promised bout between himself and the half-breed.
Carrigan knew what it was an upheaval of the tar-sand country so common still farther north, the beginning of that treasure of the earth which would some day make the top of the American continent one of the Eldorados of the world. The fires drew nearer, and suddenly the still night was broken by the wild chanting of men. David heard behind him a choking note in the throat of Bateese.
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