Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 1, 2025
We found the mooring none too good, what with the storm's work at the wharf, and as we shifted our lines a time or two, the gaping, jeans-clad Cajun who had come in with mail and supplies passed in to the lighthouse ahead of us; and I wonder his head did not twist quite off its neck, for though he walked forward, he ever looked behind him.
The agent came bustling out again with his eyes on his palm, counting small silver. "Here!" But he spoke to the empty air. He glanced about with an offended frown. "Achille!" There was no reply. He turned to one of the negroes: "Where's that 'Cajun?" Nobody knew.
Peterson was full of gloom, and though he thought nothing less than that we were going to be kept here a month, as one more event in a trip already unlucky enough, he gave the wheel to our Cajun pilot, and we crawled on around the head of a long point that came out into the bay.
Laughingly, many a time Monsieur Edouard had agreed to go a-treasure hunting with me, even had showed me several of the curious old treasure-keys, maps and cabalistic characters which tell the place where Lafitte and his men buried their gold such maps as are kept as secret heirlooms in many a Cajun family.
Pierre met him, looking very grave, if not displeased. The swamper spoke first. "Dass mighty good for you I was yondah to stop dat boy. He would 'a' half-kill' you." "He'd have served me ex-actly right," said the other, and laughed again. St. Pierre shook his head, as though this confession were poor satisfaction, and said, "Dass not safe make a 'Cajun mad.
No doubt the lighthouse tender knew of our presence, for he easily could see our tent by day and our fire by night, and he surely must have seen our good ship riding at anchor under his nose at the edge of the channel; but no visit came from that official for the very good reason, as we later learned, that the storm had stove in his boat at her mooring; so that all he himself could do was to cross his Cajun bosom and pray that his supply skiff might come from across the bay.
The recommendation of the old Roman, Varro, that freemen be employed in harvesting to save the slaves would apply with no more effect, in case of need, to the pressing of oil and wine than to the grinding of sugar-cane. Two months' wages to a Creole, a "'Cajun" or an Irishman would be cheap as the price of a slave's continued vigor, even when slave prices were low.
We're the greatest marchers and fighters in the world, but nobody, not even our own people, seem to fall in love with our money." "I suppose that General Jackson is now ready to march whenever the word should come," said St. Clair. "The boys, as far as I can see, have returned to their rest and play. There's that Cajun band playing again." "And it sounds mighty good," said Harry.
"Dat Gran' Point'," resumed the black; "'tain't no point on de riveh, you know, like dat Bell' Point, w'at you see yondeh 'twixt dem ah batture willows whah de sun all spread out on the wateh; no, seh. 'Tis jis lil place back in de swamp, raise' 'bout five, six feet 'bove de wateh. Yes, seh; 'bout t'ree mile' long, 'alf mile wide. Don't nobody but Cajun' live back dah.
The quarry was already in midstream, wielding an efficient canoe paddle. On impulse Val shouted after him, but he never turned. A rifle lay across his knees and there were some rusty traps in the bottom of the flimsy canoe. Then Val remembered that Pirate's Haven lay upon the fringe of the muskrat swamps where Cajun and American squatters still carried on the fur trade of their ancestors.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking