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Updated: June 12, 2025
The result was that the horse, to La Certe's unutterable surprise, made a sudden demivolt into the air without the usual persuasion almost unseated its rider, and fled over the prairie like a thing possessed! A faint smile ruffled the solemnity of Little Bill at this, but it vanished when he heard a low chuckle behind him.
Then he laid the weapon down by his side, and resumed the pipe which he had apparently laid down to enable him to perform these operations more conveniently, and, at the same time, with more safety. At that moment Dechamp walked smartly towards the fire in front of La Certe's tent. "Does Kateegoose know who fired that shot?" he asked with a keen glance, for his suspicions had been aroused.
But men knew La Certe's character, and refused him. One after another he tried his friends. Then he tried them again. Then he tried comparative strangers. He could not try his enemies, for, strange to say, he had none. Then he went over them all again.
He found that chief sitting in La Certe's wigwam, involved in the mists of meditation and tobacco-smoke, gazing at Slowfoot. That worthy woman who, with her lord and little child, was wont to forsake her hut in spring, and go into the summer-quarters of a wigwam was seated on the opposite side of a small fire, enduring Okematan's meditative gaze, either unconsciously or with supreme indifference.
Happening to hear of the bargain which we have just described, and being under the impression that it might be good for La Certe's spirit to receive a mild reproof, Mr Sutherland paid him a visit.
Yes, that was exactly the idea that was in La Certe's brain, and which, he hoped and fully expected, to reduce to practice in course of time if Duncan McKay would only assist him by making him a few advances at that present time. "Well, what do you want?" asked McKay, getting off the bath. The half-breed wanted a good many things.
I will not be breakin' my heart when ye are gone. I suppose that now ye hev got the best the season can supply, ye think the comforts o' the Settlement will be more to your taste." The remonstrative expression on La Certe's face deepened.
Fergus, having a shorter way to go, and, perhaps, possessing a little more vitality or endurance, had just managed to stagger to La Certe's hut when he encountered the same man who, an hour previously, had met and saved his companion further down the Settlement. The moment Fergus entered the hut, he looked wildly round, and opened his mouth as if to speak.
On the way they encountered one of the poor Swiss immigrants, who, having a wife and family, and having been unsuccessful in buffalo-hunting, and indeed in all other hunting, was in a state which bordered on starvation. "You have been lucky," said the Switzer, eyeing La Certe's fish greedily. "Sometimes luck comes to us not often," answered the half-breed. "Have you caught any?"
La Certe's father was a French Canadian, his mother an Indian woman, but both having died while he was yet a boy he had been brought or left to grow up under the care of an English woman who had followed the fortunes of the La Certe family. His early companions had been half-breeds and Indians. Hence he could speak the English, French, and Indian languages with equal incorrectness and facility.
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