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Updated: May 25, 2025
That day, as I rode forward, I saw but little of the Fort's formation, for my eyes and thoughts were so filled with those frenzied savages that hemmed us about, and the cool deployment of the few troops that guarded our passage-way, that everything else made but a dim impression.
The speech ended with the announcement of the coming of "something good from below" and an approaching visit to the village of the Red Head. During these meetings at the agency the sound of the fort's cannon and the sight of the well-uniformed guards impressed the Indians even more than did the words of the agent.
Whether he ever found it or not will never be known. Please to bear in mind the fact that for a couple of centuries at least Le Fenu's mysterious property was known as the Four Finger Mine. With this digression, I will go on to speak further of Van Fort's movements. To make a long story short, from his last journey to the mountains he never returned.
And, as I wondered, the first dim sense of being shut in came filtering through my childish consciousness. I could not cross the river. Big as my playground had always been, I had never been out of sight of the fort's flagstaff up-stream, nor down-stream. The wooded ravines blocked me on the southwest. What lay beyond these limits I had tried to picture again and again.
Under the hail of bullets a portion of the rotted pickets gave way, in a corner; but by great good fortune several peach-trees there concealed the hole. All this day the hot attacks continued. They lessened only slightly during the night. Toward morning a figure was espied craftily slinking for the fort's sally gate. A rifle bullet stopped it.
But, blinded by her hair, for the moment I desisted and, taking quick advantage of this, she whispered: "If you've any wish to please me, listen! I know those men by heart each is an arrant coward when alone. So he won't crawl closer. By the time he brings the others back we'll be inside the fort!" "That's just it," I retorted. "The fort's no good at night they'll rush it!
"Daddy is here," she said suddenly, without looking up. "He's sailing for Egypt the day after to-morrow. He doesn't like you." Fort's heart gave a jump. Why did she tell him that, unless unless she was just a little on his side? "I expected that," he said. "I'm a sinner, as you know." Noel looked up at him. "Sin!" she said, and bent again over her baby.
One evening we saw at Madame Le Fort's reception a young man so distinguished in appearance that he was known as "le beau Vergniaud." He was six feet in height and well made, with abundant chestnut hair, dark hazel eyes, clearly-cut, regular features, and a complexion needlessly fine for a man. From that time he was invariably present, not only at Madame Le Fort's, but wherever we went.
In La Fort's manuscript the letter frequently occurred, but always, as his pronunciation showed, either as a diacritical sign following the vowel a, to give to that vowel the sound of a in "far," or else as representing itself this vowel sound. Thus the syllable which should properly be written sa was written by La Fort either sar or sr. The loss of the Greek digamma is a well-known instance.
If such articles were translated and read out to that wily old President, as he sipped his coffee on his stoep, with his bland and inscrutable smile, it must have added zest to his evening pipe. I read in Mr. Seymour Fort's "Life of Dr.
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