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Updated: June 14, 2025
Just this: While the man-fiend urged on his dogs the son fired back with a rifle, and one of his bullets went straight through the heart of the pursuing Factor, so that in the space of one day and one night the little Meleese was made both motherless and fatherless by these two whom the devil had sent to destroy the most beautiful thing we have ever known in this North.
Perhaps it will be impossible for you to forgive a thing like this. We have tried to kill you kill you by a slow torture, as we thought you deserved. But think for a moment, M'seur, of what happened up here sixteen years ago this winter. I have told you how I choked life from the man-fiend. So I would have choked life from you if it had not been for Meleese. I, too, am guilty.
Runners carried the word over the mountains and through the swamps, and a hundred sledge parties searched the forest trails for the man-fiend and his son. It was the Factor himself and his youngest boy who found them, far out on the Churchill trail. And what happened then, M'seur?
Was it possible that she could have made that surrender if she, like her brothers, believed him to be the murderer of her father the son of the man-fiend who had robbed her of a mother? It was impossible, he told himself. She did not believe him guilty. And yet why had she not given him some such word in her last message to him?
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