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Updated: June 23, 2025
"The day is not far off when they two will be as you and I, my Iowaka," said Jean in his poetic Cree. "I wager you that it will be before her next birthday!" And Melisse was saying: "I wonder if there are many people as happy as Jean and Iowaka!" She caught her breath, and Jan cracked on the dogs in a spurt that left her panting, a full dozen rods behind him.
I tell you that I look at Iowaka whenever I get the chance!" "Is she not worth it?" cried Jean in rapture. "You are welcome to every look that you can get, Jan Thoreau. But the foreigner I will skin him alive and spit him with devil-thorn if he so much as peeps at her out of the wrong way of his eye!" Croisset spoke. "There was once a foreigner who came. You remember?" "I remember," said Jan.
"A maiden's soul leaves her body when she becomes the wife of the man she loves," she whispered tenderly in Cree, resting her dark head on Jean's shoulder. "That is what my people believe, Jean; and if I have given my soul to you, why should I not break oath for you?" "For me alone, Iowaka?" "For you alone." "And not for a friend?" "For no one else in the world, Jean.
Then she took down the old violin from the wall and began to play, her low, sweet voice accompanying the instrument in a Cree melody which Iowaka had taught her during Jan's absence at Nelson House and the Wholdaia. Surprised, he faced her, his eyes glowing as there fell from her lips the gentle love-song of a heart-broken Indian maiden, filled with its infinite sadness and despair.
He hugged Iowaka again in his arms, and this time he did not let her go, but turned her face so that the starlight fell upon it. "And NOW what if Jan Thoreau still feels that the curse is upon him?" he asked softly. "Ho, ho, we have fixed that you, my sweet Iowaka, and your husband, Jean de Gravois.
"I would give my life if we two could go out and fight as I want to fight," he said in a low, tense voice, "It would be worth your life and mine that fight. It would be glorious. But I am a Catholic, M'sieur. I am a Catholic of the wilderness. And I have taken the most binding oath in the world. I have sworn by the sweet soul of my dead Iowaka to do only as Josephine tells me to do in this.
Over her grave I swore that, with Josephine kneeling at my side. I have prayed that my Iowaka might come to me and tell me if I am right. But in this her voice has been silent. I have prayed Josephine to free me from my oath, and she has refused. I am afraid. I dare reveal nothing. I cannot act as I want to act. But to-night " His voice sank to a whisper.
And the cakes the bread the pies! You must delay the supper my lady, for the good Lord deliver me if I haven't spilled all the dough on the floor! Swas-s-s- s-h such a mess! And my Iowaka did nothing but laugh and call me a clumsy dear!" "You're terribly in love, Jean," cried Melisse, laughing until her eyes were wet; "just like some of the people in the books which Jan and I read."
"Never," said Jean. His dark face flashed joyously as Iowaka's sweet voice came to them, singing a Cree lullaby in the little home. "Some day Melisse will be singing that same way over there; and it will be for you, Jan Thoreau, as my Iowaka is now singing for me!" An hour later Jan went slowly across the open to Cummins' cabin.
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