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Updated: September 6, 2025
He began to tremble. He dropped the bridle rein, and the horse strayed away again. If he could believe his eyes, if Bela was a gentle, loving woman, what had he done? Seeing her like this, his heart went to her like a bird to its nest. Musq'oosis opened his eyes and murmured. She lowered her head close to listen. They talked together. Sam looked on like one stricken.
I not goin' cry again. I goin' laugh and have some fun now!" Musq'oosis let it all come out before he spoke. When his opportunity came he said calmly: "You are a big fool. You don't know w'at's the matter wit' you." She fell into his trap. "W'at is the matter wit' me?" she demanded sullenly. "Sam!" he said scornfully. "I tell you before. You what they call in love wit' Sam.
Alone with Sam, he came out in quite a different character. Sam made the discovery that a man may have dark skin yet be a philosopher and a gentleman. Musq'oosis talked of all things from tobacco to the differences in men. "White man lak beaver. All tam work don' give a damn!" he observed. "Red man lak bear. Him lazy. Fat in summer, starve in winter. Got no sense at all." Sam laughed.
"You've got sense," he said. Musq'oosis shrugged philosophically. "I not the same lak ot'er men. I got crooked back, weak legs. I got work sittin' down. So my head is busy." He smoked with a reminiscent look. "When I yo'ng I feel moch bad for cause I got crooked back. But when I old I think there is good in it. A strong man is lak a moose. Wa! So big and swift and 'an'some.
You mak' me tired!" "I got go now, now!" she repeated. "Listen to me," said Musq'oosis. "I not tell you that for cause it is only foolishness. She is an old woman. She jus' a fool-hen. Are you 'fraid of her?" "She is white," said Bela. "She know more than me. She know how to catch a man. Me, I am not all white. I live wit' Indians. He think little of me for that. Yes, I am afraid of her.
Taking a native boy to drive, he disappeared up the road. He was gone all day. Bela was setting the table for supper when he came in. With an elaborate affectation of innocence he went to the fire to warm his hands. "Where you been?" she demanded, frowning. "Drivin'." "Who tell you tak' the horses?" "Nobody." "Those my horses!" she said stormily. Musq'oosis shrugged deprecatingly. "Horses go out.
Without any preamble she said simply: "My fat'er a white man." Musq'oosis betrayed no surprise. "I know that," he replied. "My mot'er's fat'er, he white man too," she went on. He nodded. "Why you never tell me?" she asked, frowning slightly. He spread out his palms. "What's the use? You want to go. Got no place to go. Too much yo'ng to go. I t'ink you feel bad if I tell." She shook her head.
Sam continued to protest against using the robe, but Musq'oosis, waving his objections aside, calmly lay down in his blanket and closed his eyes. Sam presently followed suit. The rabbit-skin robe acted like a charm. A delicious warmth crept into his weary bones, and sleep overmastered his senses like a delicious perfume. When he awoke the sun was high over the lake, and Musq'oosis had gone.
Here Stiffy spoke up from his cubby-hole: "Hell! Musq'oosis don't need anybody to feed him. He's well fixed. Got a first-class credit balance." Joe, ever on the watch, saw Mahooley turn his head abruptly and scowl at his partner. Stiffy closed his mouth suddenly. Joe, possessed by a single idea, jumped to the conclusion that Musq'oosis had something to do with the mystery he was on the track of.
Bishop Lajeunesse is the bes' man for cause no ot'er man can look him down. White men stronger than red men for cause they got stronger fire in their eyes. So I tell you when you choose a 'osban', tak' a man with a strong eye." The girl looked at him startled. This was a new thought. Musq'oosis, having made his point, relaxed his stern port.
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