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Updated: May 25, 2025
From the flats south of the Capot River, where he had wintered amid a band of Blackfoot Indians, a rare thing for a white man, he had come laden with rich furs from that unopened country, bound for De Seviere, and on the banks of the Qui Appelle three men had come upon him who had shared his lonely campfire.
As the canoe cut cleanly up and stopped just short of scraping on the stones at the edge, obeying the paddles like a thoroughbred the bit, the chief trader of De Seviere stepped forward and held out his arms. "Who art thou?" he called. Deep and guttural as thunder from the broad chest, naked under the lines of elk teeth, came the reply, "Thy father," "And master of my goods.
At the back of the big room was the small one where McElroy and Ridgar had their living, furnished scantily with a bed and table, an open fireplace and crane, some rude, hand-made chairs, and a shelf of books. And to this post of De Seviere had come in the dusk of the previous night a little company of people.
You know these things, M'sieu?" She leaned forward from the great smooth-barked tree and looked at him eagerly. "They are what brought me over seas," he said quietly, "what sent me to De Seviere, what hold me to the tribes that come each year to my doors." Maren's lips were parted, the fire of her passion in her flaming face.
With inimitable grace he swung the child from his shoulder, tossed it to a timid squaw watching like a hawk, and, shaking back his curls, came forward. "Ah, Ma'amselle!" he said, bending before her with his courtly manner, "you see, as I said in the early spring, I have come back to Fort de Seviere."
Throughout the week that followed Fort de Seviere was gay with the bustle of trading.
Then he turned and ran lightly down the bank, leaped into the canoe held ready, once more bowed, and as the little craft swept out to midstream, he shook back his curls and lifted his face toward the country of the Saskatchewan. So passed out of Fort de Seviere one who was destined to be interwoven with its fortunes.
"And so he died, this young trapper with the soul of pearl, and I alone go back to De Seviere with with M'sieu the factor," she concluded heavily. "Mother av Heavin! An' which, forgive me lass, which man av the three did ye love? For 'tis only love could be behind such deeds as these!"
Only one more pang assailed him. He gave one swift thought to Maren Le Moyne. Where in Fort de Seviere was she, and what was in her heart?
And now it gripped the young factor of Fort de Seviere and he looked among the Assiniboines for a gift. Here a squaw held forth to him a garment that took his eye at once.
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