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Updated: June 15, 2025
She where I, Louis Laplante, son of a seigneur, snare that she-devil, trap that fox, trick the tigress! Ha ol' tombstone! Noblesse oblige I say! She near she here," and he flung up both arms like a frenzied maniac. "Man! Are you mad?" I demanded, uncertain whether he were apostrophizing Diable's squaw, or abstract glory. "Speak out!" I shouted, shaking him by the shoulder.
This was greeted with a roar of laughter from the Sioux woman and one look of unspeakable reproach from Miriam. Whistling gaily and turning back to wink at me, the Frenchman disappeared in Diable's lodge. For my part, I was puzzled. Did Louis act from the love of acting and trickery and intrigue? Was he befooling the daughter of L'Aigle, or me?
Mounting the broncho, which Little Fellow had caught and brought back, I ordered the Indians to get their horses and follow; and I rode up to the level prairie. Against the southern horizon shone the yellow birch of a wigwam. Vague movements were apparent through the long grass, from which we conjectured the raiders were hastening back with news of Diable's capture.
"Who is Le Grand Diable's wife?" And the Indian answered in a low voice, with a face that showed me he had already penetrated my discovery, "The daughter of L'Aigle, chief of the Sioux." Then I knew for whom those missiles had been intended and from whom they had come. It was a clever piece of rascality. Had the assassin succeeded, punishment would have fallen on my Indians.
We had felt so sure Le Grand Diable's band of vagabonds would hang about till the brigades of the North-West Company's tripmen set out for the north, all our efforts were spent in a vain search for some trace of the rascals in the vicinity of Quebec. His gypsy nondescripts would hardly dare to keep the things taken from Miriam and the child.
They tore down Diable's tepee, stringing the poles on the bronchos stolen from me and leaving Miriam's white tent with the Sioux. I saw them mount with my horses to the fore, and they set out at a sharp trot. From the hoof-beats, I should judge they had not gone many paces, when one rider seemed to turn back, and Louis ran into the tent where I lay.
Passing Seven Oaks, I saw some of the Hudson's Bay men, who had remained burying the dead not removing them. That was impossible after the wolves and three days of a blistering sun. I told Hamilton of neither Le Grand Diable's death, nor Louis Laplante's promise. He had suffered disappointments enough and could ill stand any sort of excitement.
The squaws were very near; and the angular figure of Diable's wife hung on the rear of the group. She was scolding like a termagant in the Sioux tongue, ordering the other women to the fray; but still she kept back, looking over her shoulder suspiciously at Miriam's tent, uncertain whether to go or stay. We had failed in every other attempt to rescue Miriam.
He had evidently bitten through his gag, raised his arms to his mouth, eaten away the hare thongs, and so, without the help of the Sioux raiders, freed his hands, untied himself and escaped. Dumfounded and baffled, I returned to the encampment and took counsel with Father Holland. We arranged to set out for the Mandanes on the Missouri. Diable's tribe had certainly gone south to Sioux territory.
Not a thing had we found to indicate any trace of the lost woman and child, until I caught sight of a tiny, blue string beneath a piece of rusty metal. Kicking the tin aside, I caught the ribbon up. When I saw on the lower end a child's finely beaded moccasin, I confess I had rather felt the point of Le Grand Diable's dagger at my own heart than have shown that simple thing to Hamilton.
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