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"Like a bird!" answered Rob, as the first canoe, which was named the Mary Ann, soon took the water. "Here comes the Jaybird!" cried Jesse, as they pushed the other canoe over the last foot or so of grass which lay between it and the water. "Those boat she'll be all same like ducks," exclaimed Moise, admiringly. "I'll bet not even my onkle Pete Fraser he'll have better boat like those."
She could at least now talk of him calmly, and also speculate with pleasure on the probable aspect of Onkle Col in glory, but she still couldn't bear to hear the details of his end.
And she was about to relate that dreadful story of Onkle Col's end which has already been described in these pages as unfit for anywhere but an appendix for time had blunted her feelings, when Anna-Felicitas put out a beseeching hand and stopped her. Even after all these years Anna-Felicitas couldn't bear to remember Onkle Col's end. It had haunted her childhood.
"I did of myself write the names of ozzer peoples;" when Carmen was excited she lost the control of the English tongue; "I did write just to please myself; it was my onkle that did make of it money; you understand, eh? Shall you not speak? Must I again hit you?" "Go on," said Thatcher laughing.
"Yes, my onkle he'll ron them in beeg boat many tam, but not with leetle boat. She'll jump down five, three feet sometams. Leetle boat she'll stick his nose under, yes. My onkle he'll tol' me, when you come on the Parle Pas take the north side, an' find some chute there for leetle boat.
"But he wasn't the first to run it on out," said John, who also had a good idea of the geography hereabouts, which he had carefully studied in advance. "It was Simon Fraser did that first." "Yes, they'll both been good man, heem," said Moise, his mouth full of bacon. "My wife, she'll had an onkle once name Fraser an' he'll been seex feet high an' strong like a hox those Fraser, yes, heem."
"My onkle, she'll always ron those rapeed," said he. "S'pose I'll tell heem I'll walk aroun', he'll laugh on me, yes!" "That's all right, Moise," said Rob; "your uncle isn't here, and for one, I'm glad we took it easy coming through here. That's rough water either way you look at it, up-stream or down.
S'pose you'll tell my onkle, Moise he'll walk down the Parle Pas an' not ron on heem, he'll laugh on me, heem! All right, when you get to the Grand Portage sixty miles below, you'll get all the walk you want, Alex, hein?" Alex answered him with a pleasant smile, not in the least disposed to be laughed into taking any risks he did not think necessary.
"Stranger still that you may cut a worm into several parts, and the life remains in each, but, strangest of all, that you should sit on the ground, professor, instead of rising up, while you philosophise. You are not hurt, I hope are you?" "I razer zink I am," returned the philosopher with a faint smile; "mine onkle, I zink, is spraint."
"Those map she'll not been much good," said Moise, pointing to the government maps of which Rob had a store. "The only good map she'll been made by the Injun with a stick, s'pose on the sand, or maybe so on a piece of bark. My onkle she'll made me a map of the Parle Pas. He'll show the place where to go through the middle on the Parle Pas.
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