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Updated: May 25, 2025
"But suppose there are no Indians near?" "Plenty Injun see pu-kut. Beeg hill. Injun know." "Will the Indians come?" "Bimeby." "In time to save us from the slashers?" "Mebbe. Sam come bimeby. Sam know." Curiously and anxiously Jean watched that signal flaring from the high hill.
"I need not explain to you further," Thayor resumed, "that the statements are pure forgeries. You will readily see that it was Bergstein's method to open a small account at these reputable houses and add the rest." "I tink he been one beeg rascal hein!" grinned Le Boeuf. There were others present who were still unconvinced. "Anything further, Mr. Dollard?" asked Thayor sharply.
"But how come home? Come at this place again? Bigosh but that will not do, Mr. Ringfield at all, sir! Beeg fuss, sure my wife come at this place so soon after leave nurse Henry Clairville! Dr. Renaud will tell you that. No, sir, Madame is come no more on me, on St. Ignace at all. When she leave me, go nurse seeck man down with the 'Pic, she is no more for me. Voyez m'sieu, I am tired of my wife.
"New people are coming all the time and they'll beat us in if we don't look out." His comrade shrugged. "Mebbe so; but s'posin' dey do. Wat's de hodds? She's beeg countree; dere's plenty claims." "Are there, really?" Phillips' eyes brightened. "You're an old- timer; you've been 'inside. Do you mean there's plenty of gold for all of us?" "Dere ain't 'nuff gold in all de worl' for some people."
I stan' an' yell lak one beeg fool me. Up come beeg feller on buckboard on noder side. Beeg blam-fool jus' lak boss. Not 'fraid noting. Hees trow rope cross saddle. De ole boss hees win' heem roun' de horn. Poof! das upset dat pony once more. Hees trow hees feet up on water, catch ole boss on head an' arm, knock heem right off to blazes.
Colonel she hate because I don' keel M'sieur Cardigan; Mademoiselle, he hate because I try to keel M'sieur Cardigan; M'sieur Sexton, she hate because I tell her thees mornin' she is one fool for fight M'sieur Cardigan." Again he sighed. "Dose beeg trees! In Quebec we have none. In zee woods, M'sieur, I feel here!" And he laid his great calloused, hairy hand over his heart.
The "honor of the Beeg Snows" was a part of Jan's soul; it was his religion, and the religion of those few others who lived with him four hundred miles from a settlement, in a place where God's name could not be spelled or written.
Sap-r-r-e! Not long before I pull on dat rope an' get bot on shore. Beeg feller hees all right. De ole boss hees lie white, white and still. I cry on my eye bad. 'Go get someting for dreenk, say beeg feller, 'queek. Sac-r-re! beeg fool messef! Bah! Good for noting! I fin' brandy, an' leele tam, tree-four minute, de ole boss bees sit up all right. Le Bon Dieu hees do good turn dat time, for sure.
His features were drawn, the brown tint of his face had changed to a characterless gray, his eyes looked sunken and brighter, as if some fever brought a flame into them. "Sure you no in h'awful beeg 'urry for to go 'ome, Mees?" asked the hostess. "Dis man heem real seek. Heem no fit for valk all vay back to Carcajou now. To-morrow my man take you.
Hee's give beeg smile to thees señorita, beeg smile to thees one, beeg smile to that one, beeg smile for all the mama, but for the querida I tell to you Don Miguel hee's pretty parteecular. I theenk to myself Carolina, too 'Look here, Pablo. What he ees the matter weeth those boy? I theenk mebbeso those boy she's goin' be old bach. What's the matter here?
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