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Involuntarily Dixon started, half turning his face, and before he had come to his guard Gravois flung himself under his arms, striking with the full force of his body against his antagonist's knees. Together they went down in the trail. There was only one science now that of the forest man.
Madame Gravois was awaiting me. Was Monsieur mad to remain out at night? Had Monsieur not heard of the yellow fever? Madame Gravois even had prepared some concoction which she poured out of a bottle, and which I took with the docility of a child. Monsieur Vigo had called, and there was a note. A note? It was a small note. I glanced stupidly at the seal, recognized the swan of the St.
It was well known in the province of Lac Bain that many years before Jean de Gravois had lost a little brother, who had disappeared one day in the woods; and there were those who hinted that Ledoq was that brother, for Jean and he were as like as two peas in the ready use of their tongues, and were of the same build and the same briskness.
With a great sighing breath that was almost a sob, he bowed his head upon his arms. "Jan Thoreau," whispered Jean softly, "have you forgotten that it was I who killed the missioner for you, and that through all of these years Jean de Gravois has never questioned you about the fight on the mountain top?"
That he had made a record catch even the children knew by the size of the packs on his sledge and by the swagger in his walk. Gravois was usually one of the last to appear at the annual gathering of the wilderness fur-gatherers. He was a big man in reputation, as he was small in stature. He was known as far west as the Peace River, and eastward to Fort Churchill.
"Only the little Gravois have almost grown into a man and woman." An hour or so later he said to Iowaka: "I can't help liking this man Dixon, and yet I don't want to. Why is it, do you suppose?" "Is it because you are afraid that Melisse will like him?" asked his wife, smiling over her shoulder. "Blessed saints, I believe that it is!" said Jean frankly.
"I don't know," said Iowaka simply, staring at him in amazed questioning. "Nor do I," said Jean, lighting his pipe. "But there is enough of the devil in Jean de Gravois to make him break a thousand oaths if it was for you, my Iowaka!" Her eyes glowed upon him softly.
He dropped his whip, and there was the warm glow of happiness in his little dark face as he leveled his rifle over the backs of his Malemutes. "He fires at Jean de Gravois, and it is Jean who can hamstring a caribou at three hundred yards on the run!" For an instant, at the crack of his rifle, there was no movement ahead; then something rolled from the sledge and lay doubled up in the snow.
A dull glare came into Jan's. Slowly he unsheathed his long knife, and placed it upon the snow between his feet, with the gleaming end of the blade pointing toward Gravois. With a low cry Jean sprang to his feet. "Do you mean that, Jan Thoreau? Do you mean to give the knife- challenge to one who has staked his life for you and who loves you as a brother?" "Yes," said Jan deliberately.
Jan's face went red, then white, but Melisse saw only the first effect of her random shot, and was briskly gathering up the dishes. "I turn off into the Cree Lake country before I reach MacVeighs'." he was on the point of saying; but the words hung upon his lips, and he remained silent. A few minutes later he was talking with Jean de Gravois.
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