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Her mother-in-law, Madame Cadotte, had a hold on perennially destitute Chippewa women who could be made to work for longer or shorter periods in a Frenchman's kitchen or loom-house instead of with savage implements. Archange's bed had ruffled curtains, and her pretty dresses, carefully folded, filled a large chest.
That day some bird astray in the forest gave his whistle, perhaps to his mate, and she answered it with the most enchanting music. He came so near they could hear the flutter of his wings. Cadotte started up with his gun. "You shall not kill it!" she cried. "Do you think I would lure a bird to such a cruel, treacherous death!" Her face was bewitching in its indignation.
Jacques Repentigny and Louizon Cadotte took up the woman who, perhaps had never been what they considered woman; who had missed the good, and got for her portion the ignorance and degradation of the world; yet who must be something to the Almighty, for he had sent youth and love to pity and take care of her in her death. They carried her into the woods between them.
Let us push on," to the men. There were heavy hearts and slow steps. It seemed as if it must be midnight when they reached the clearing, though it was not that late. They built their fire. Cadotte and Savignon took a survey. "Another party has been here," Cadotte exclaimed, in a whisper. "There has been a struggle. They are carried off somewhere." "Do not speak of it to-night. The women are tired.
And how comes it that here are Cadotte Rapids, named after the famous voyageur family of Cadottes, whose ancestor gave his life and his name to one section of the Ottawa? Forty miles below La Corne is Nepawin, the 'looking-out-place' of the Indians for the coming trader, where the French had another post. And still the river widens and widens.
Pierre Cadotte is at the fort. They came through the rapids at Lachine. It was very exciting. He has been at the trading post up to the strait and tells marvellous stories of hardships and heroism. And the good priest up there has made converts already." She was always so interested in some far-off thing. "I wish a priest might make a convert here. There is much need." She was off her guard.
Does Injun is step ver' sof' an' go on bunk of Pierre Cadotte. Pierre Cadotte is mak' de beeg cry. Dick Henderson say he no see dose Injun no more, an' he fin' de door shut' Ba Pierre Cadotte, she's go dead. He is mak' wan beeg hole in hees ches'." "Some enemy, some robber frightened Away because the Henderson man woke up, probably," suggested Ned Trent.
Ole tam long ago, Pierre Cadotte is stole feefteen skin of de otter de sea-otter and he is sol' dem on Winnipeg. He is get 'bout thousand beaver five hunder' dollar. Den he is mak' dose longue voyage wes' ver' far wes' on dit Peace Reever. He is mak' heem dose cabane, w'ere he is leev long tam wid wan man of Mackenzie. He is call it hees nam' Dick Henderson.
Archange pushed the sashes shut, ready for other diversion, and Michel Pensonneau never failed to furnish her that. The little boy was at the widow's heels. Michel was an orphan. "If Archange had children," Madame Cadotte had said to Louizon, "she would not seek other amusement. Take the little Pensonneau lad that his grandmother can hardly feed. He will give Archange something to do."
What spirit, what strength of purpose shone in it! "He will freeze before spring, Mam'selle," Cadotte returned sullenly. "Then let him die as the good God intends." "Mam'selle, I never heard a human voice so like a bird's," Savignon declared, in a tone of admiration. "Do you know other voices that range in Quebec?" She laughed, her present anger vanishing. "I used to tame them when I was a child.
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