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Updated: May 19, 2025
"Yass," Manouvrier mused aloud once more, "I think I build my ole woman one fine house." "Ah! I don't want!" "But yass! Foudre tonnerre! how I goin' spend her else? w'iskee? hosses? women? what da dev'l! Naw, I build a fine 'ouse. You see! she want dat house bad enough when she see her. Yass; fifty t'ousan' dollah faw house and twenty-five t'ousan'" he whisked his thumb at me and I said for him,
Simmo was begging me to shoot, shoot, telling me excitedly that "Ol' Dev'l," as he called him, would be more dangerous now than ever, if I let him get away; but I only drove the canoe in closer to the splashing, grunting uproar among the shadows under the bank. There was a terrific duel under way when I swung the canoe alongside a moment later.
"Naw; my wife she keep off all doze Peter an' John. Naw; one man bring me one wile cat to stoff. Ah! a so fine as I never see! Beautiful like da dev'l! Since two day' an' night' I can't make out if I want to fix dat wile cat stan'in' up aw sittin' down!" "Did you decide at last?" "Yass, I dis-ide. How you think I diside?" "Ah! you're too hard for me. But one thing I know." "Yass? What you know?"
Simmo heard and turned in the bow to whisper excitedly: "Nother bull! Fetch-um Ol' Dev'l this time, sartin." Raising his horn he gave the long, rolling bellow of a cow moose. A fiercer trumpet call from the mountain side answered; then the sound was lost in the crash-crash of the first two bulls, as they broke out upon the shore on opposite sides of the canoe.
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