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Updated: July 6, 2025
"Let him shake a little. Cure his hot mad maybe." "White man get sick with cold," persisted Bela. "Not lak us. What good my waitin', if he get sick?" Musq'oosis held up both his hands. "There is not'ing lak a woman!" he cried. "Go to your mot'er. I will paddle by the lake and give him a rabbit robe." Bela's eyes flashed a warm look on him. She got up without speaking, and hastened away.
Recollecting that Beattie had told him the man had been dead twenty years, he hastily corrected himself. "That is, not exactly. Not personally." "Uh!" said Musq'oosis. "I thought I'd ask you, you're such an old-timer." "Um!" said Musq'oosis again. There was nothing in this so far to arouse his suspicions. But on principle he disliked to answer questions.
This was what Musq'oosis wanted, but nothing of his desire showed in his face. "Too small," he said. "Small nothing!" cried Mahooley. "Those horses are bred in the country. They will thrive on shavings. They run out all winter." "How moch wit' wagon and harness?" asked Musq'oosis indifferently. "Six hundred and fifty." "Wa!" said Musq'oosis. "You t'ink you got race-horses. I give five-fifty."
They not see me come and go; think I got magic. They scare of me." "All right," repeated Musq'oosis. "I lak sleep in my teepee. What you goin' do when you go back?" "When the bishop come I goin' marry the cook," said Bela calmly. "Um," grunted Musq'oosis. "Is he the bigges'?" "No," answered Bela. "He littles'. I watch him. He got stronges' eye." "So?"
Joe can lay me out cold, but I'll never quit!" "If Beattie put Bela out, she got no place to go," pleaded Musq'oosis. Sam scowled helplessly. "What can I do?" he asked. "Bela's nearly done for me already up here. She shouldn't ask this of me. I'll put it up to her. She'll understand." "No use stoppin'," said Musq'oosis. "Bela send me up road tell you not stop to-night."
His eyes were wide open, and he was smiling at them in a different way. "I feel better," he said slyly. Bela and Sam sprang up in terror and retreated a little way, staring at him, staring at each other with wild eyes. Gradually they realized how they had been tricked, and the old scowls returned to each face. Both were silent. Musq'oosis sat up in his blankets.
"There is no cure for a fool," growled Musq'oosis. Bela finally raised her head. "I am cure of my sickness now," she said, scowling. "I hate him!" "Hate!" said the old man scornfully. "Your face is wet." She dashed the tears from her cheeks. "When he ran out of Johnny Gagnon's," she went on, "I run after. I hold on him. He curse me. He throw me down. Since then I hate him.
"Musq'oosis," she corrected. "That name mean little bear. He is my friend. He friend to my fat'er, too. He is little. Got crooked back. Know everything." "Where do you live, Bela?" he asked. "Over the lake by Hah-wah-sepi," she answered readily. On second thought, she corrected the statement. "No; before I am live there. My mot'er live there. Now I live where I am. Got no home. Got no people."
"I go because you say you got go if I don't go. I don't want you to mak' anot'er fool lak before. I go for 'cause you promise me you stay here." It was impossible for poor Bela to justify her contradictions, so she kept silent. "You lak a woman, all right," declared Musq'oosis scornfully.
They filed out. Only Musq'oosis was left sitting on the floor, staring into the fire. He did not turn around as Bela came back from the door. "Why don't you go, too?" she demanded in a harsh, tremulous voice. "T'ink maybe you want talk to me." "Talk!" she cried. "Too moch talk! I sick of talkin'!" Her voice was breaking. "Go 'way! Let me be!" He got up. He had dropped his innocent affectations.
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