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Updated: May 6, 2025
The men lowered the litter to the ground, and they crowded around it. Destournier was ghostly pale, but full of thankfulness. When there was a little space open he reached out his hand to Rose. "You two women have been very brave, but you should not have taken the journey. As for Savignon, we all owe him a debt that we can never repay."
M. de Champlain opposed the plan. It was too severe for women. But curiously enough Savignon said "The blossom of Quebec is no dainty flower, to be crushed by wind and storm. If she wants to go, I am on her side." When Rose heard this she flew out to thank him, catching one hand in both of hers, her eyes luminous with gladness. "Oh, I cannot truly thank you, Monsieur.
There was a quick shot, a shriek, almost human, and a rush farther in the forest. They were all awake in an instant. "An attack!" shouted two of the men. "A wolf," rejoined Savignon. He took up a brand and peered about in the darkness. The body was still twitching, but the head was a mangled mass. There were no others in sight, but they heard their cry growing fainter and fainter.
But then she had begun it as a child Was it easy to love when one was grown? The darkness was descending when they heard a shout. Was it friend or foe? Another, and it came nearer. It was not the voice of an Indian. De Loie rushed in upon them. "You men go and relieve those at the litter. Savignon is a wizard. He has the three men.
On June 13th two hundred Hurons arrived at Sault St. Louis, so called from a young Frenchman named Louis, who was drowned in the rapids a few days before. The Hurons were under the command of Ochateguin, Iroquet and Tregouaroti. The latter was a brother of Savignon, the young Huron whom Champlain had taken with him to France. The interview, which lasted some time, was most cordial.
The dead leaves rustled under their feet, now and then in an opening they saw the sky in the soft, whitish-gray tints before it turns to blue. There was a shrill, prolonged whistle. "They are coming back with news." Savignon guessed it was not cheering. He answered through his fingers. The two scouts came hurrying forward. "They are gone. They must have taken some other road.
Let us push on," to the men. There were heavy hearts and slow steps. It seemed as if it must be midnight when they reached the clearing, though it was not that late. They built their fire. Cadotte and Savignon took a survey. "Another party has been here," Cadotte exclaimed, in a whisper. "There has been a struggle. They are carried off somewhere." "Do not speak of it to-night. The women are tired.
It seemed a large addition to their scanty store. A great joy pervaded the little colony. Two days passed, then a third. A party, headed by Savignon, went out to meet them. They found a few men, dragging and carrying weary loads. There had been an accident to M. Destournier. He had stumbled into an unseen pitfall and broken his leg.
"If I were a man I would attempt his rescue, or die with him. It would not be so hard to die holding a friend's hand." "You love him very much?" The love Savignon meant had so little place in her thoughts that the question did not cause her to change color. "He was so good to me when I was little, and ill for a long while. He used to hold me on his knee, and let my head rest on his strong breast.
The Hurons would show scant pity to a disabled man. Savignon had done and would do his best, but somehow he could not feel so bitterly grieved. He loved this woman he knew that now. They were discussing plans when a near-by step startled them. Parting the undergrowth, a torn and dishevelled man appeared. It was Paul De Loie. He almost dropped on the ground at their feet.
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