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The Seaforth News, 1938-07-07, Page 6PAGE SIX. "Don't harp on that, Louis!" and I returned his insolence in full measure. "I didn't steal your (despatches, though I know the thief. And you paid me back by almost trapping me at Fort Douglas.,, 'But I didn't succeed," •exclaimed Laplante. "Mon Dieu! `If I had only known you were .a spy!" "I wasn't I 'came to see Hamilton,". "And you Pay me back as if I had succeed," continued Louis, "by 'kick- ing ow -me -the son of a seigneur - kicking neein the stomach like a pig, which is no fit treatment for a gentle- man!" "And you paid me 'back by sticking your knife in my boot—" "And didn't succeed;" broke in Louis regretfully. At that, we' both laughed in spite of ourselves, laughed as •comrades. And the laugh 'brou'ght 'back memories of old Laval clays, when we used to thrash each other in the seboolyard,. but always atnited in ,defensive 'league, when we were .disciplined inside the class -room. "See here, •old crony," I cried, tak- ing quick :advantage 'of his sudden softening and again playing suppliant to my adversary. "I own up! You owe me two scores, one for the despatches I saw taken from you, one for knock- ing you down in Fort Douglas; for your 'knife broke and did not cut me a whit. Pay those scores with com- pou'nd interest, if you like, the way you used to pummel me black and blue at Laval; but help me now es we used to help •each other out of scrapes at school! Afterwards, do as you wish! I give you full leave. As the son of a seigneur, as 'a gentleman, Louis, help me to free the woman)" "Pah!" cried Louis with mingled. contempt and surrender. "I not pun- ish you here with two thousand against one! Louis Laplante is a gen- tleman -even to his enemy!" "Bravo, comrade!" I shouted out, full of gratitude, and I thrust forward my hand. "No -no -thanks much," and La- plante drew himself up proudly, "not till I pay you well, richly, -generous always to mine enemy!" "'Very good! Pay when and where you will" "Pay how I 'like," snapped Louis. With that strange .contract, his em- barrassment seemed to vanish and his English came back !fluently. "You'd ,better leave before the war- riors return," he said. "They come home to -morrow!" "Is Diable among them?" "Is Diable here?" "No." His face cleu'ded as 3 ques- tioned. 'Do you know' where he is?" „No." "Will he be 'back?" °'Dammie) How do 'I know?" He will if he wants tol 'I don't tell tales on a man who saved my life." His answer set me to wondering if Diable had seen me hold back the trader's murderous 'hand, when Loris lay drunk, and if the !Frenchman's knowted'ge of that incident explained his strange generosity now. "I'll stay here do spite .of all the Sioux warriors on earth, till I find out about that knave of an Indian and his captives," I vowed. Louis looked at me queerly and gave another whistle. "You always were a pig -head," said he. "I can keep them from harming you; but remember, I pay you !back in your own coin. And look out for the daughter of L'iAigle, 'curse her! She is the only thing I ever 'fear•! !Keep you in my tent! If Le Grand Diable see you—" and Louis touched his knife -handle significantly. "Then Diable is here!" "`I not say so," 'but he flushed at the slip of his tongue and moved quickly towards what .appeared to be his quarters. ' He is •coming?" 11 .questioned, sus-� picfous Of Louis' veracity, "Dolt!" said Louis. "Why else do I THE SEAFORTH NEWS nor the beavers, nor the great, 'bold l jl e ;ti'n'der: white woman? r,• "T,t�ar»:' were words in the tepee," declared the angry ;tones of the Indian woman. 'The pale face was talking! Where is the message from the Man- danes?" At that, the little child set 'u'p a bit- ter crying. "Ory not my little warrior)- Hush, deariel 'Twas only a hunter whistling, or the night hawk, or the :raccoon! Hush! Hush! 'Oir the great 'bear will. laugh at you and tell his 'nubs 'he's found a coward!" crooned 'Miriam, making as though she neither 'heard, nor saw the squaw; but Eric opened his mouth and roared lustily. And the little lad unconsciously foiled 'the squaw; for she presently took herself off, evidently thinking the voices had been those of mother and son. I skirted cautiously around the rear of the lodges to avoid encountering Diable, or his squaw. The ,farm Of a man hulked against me in the dark. 'Twas Louis.. "Mon Dieu, 'Gillespie, I thought one scalp was gone," he gasped. 'What are you here for You don't want to be seen with me," I protest- ed, grateful and alarmed for his fool- hardiness in coating to meet me. "Sacredie! The dogs! They make pretty music at your shins without me," and Louis struck boldly across the open 'for his tent. "!fool to stay so long!" He muttered. "I no mare ever help You once again! Mon Dieu, No! I no promise my scalp too! They found yotir horses in the valley! They -'how you say it? -think. for some. Mandane is' here and fear. They rode balk fast on your horses. 'Twas wiry I whistle for, twice so quick! They ride north in the morning. I go too, with the devil and his wife! I be gone to the devil this many a while! But I must go, or they suspect and knife me. That vampire! Hal she would drink niy gore! I .no more have no- thing to do with you. Before morn- ing, you must do your own do alone alone! Sacredie!- Do not forget, I pay you 'back yet!" So he rattled on; ever 'keeping be- tween me and the lodges. By his con- fused words, I knew he was in great trepidation, "Why, there are my horses!" I ex- claimed, seeeing all six standing be- fore Diable's 'lodge. 'You do your do before morning! Take one .of my saddles!" said Louis. Sure enough, all my saddles were, piled before the Iroquois' wigwam; and there stood my enemy and the Sioux squaw, talking loudly, pointing to the horses and gesticulating with violence. "Mon Dieu! Preeeez garde! Get you in!" muttered Louis. We were at his tent door, and :I was looking back at my horses. "•If they see you, all is lost," he warned, And She warning came just in time. With that animal instinct of near- ness, which •is neither sight, nor smell, my favorite broncho put for- ward his ears and whinnied sharply, Both Diable and the squaw 'noted the act and turned; but Louis had 'knocked rte forward face down into the tent. With an oath, he threw himself on his couch. "Take my saddle," he said. "I steal ano'ther. Do your do before morning. I no more have nothing to do with you, till I pay you back all the same!" And he was presently fast asleep, or pretending to be. CHAPTER XIX Next •morning Le Grand Diable would set out for the north. Th! night, then, was my last chance to rescue Miriam. IDo your do ,before morning!" How Laplante's words echoed in my ears! I had told Miriam a stornty night was to be the signal for our attempt; and now the moon was dispelling any vague haziness that might have helped to conceal us. In an !hour, She whole camp would be bright as day in clear, silver light. Presently, the 'clatter of the' lodges ceased. Only an occasional snarl from the dogs, or the angry squeals of my bronchos kicking the Indian ponies, broke the utter stillness. There was not even a wind to deown,.footgfea(s; and every lodge of the oamp was re- fiected across the ground in elongated shadows,. as' .distinct as crayon 'fi'gure on white paper. 'What if some watch- .1u1 Indian should discover .our moving shadows? La Robe Noire'.s fate flash- ed 'baok and I shu'd'dered. Flinging up impatiently from the robes, 'I 'looked from the tent way. Some dog of the pack gave the short, sharp bark of a fox, Then, but for the crunching of my 'horses over the, turfsome yards away, there was si lence. I could hear the heavy breath- ing .of peopile in .near -.by lodges. Up, from the wooded ,valley came the far- off purr of a stream over stony bot- tom and the .low washing sound only accentuated the stillness. The shrill cry of some lonely night -!bird stabbed the atmosphere with a throb of pain. Again the dog snapped out a bark and again there was utter ,quiet. 'One chance in ,a thousand," said I to myself, "only one in a thousand• but .I'll take it!" And I stepped iron - the tent. This time the wakeful dog eaglet My own litble warrior must never cry ! All the !birds and the beasts and the warriors are asleep! ,What does Eric say 'before he goes to sleep?" Apair of chubby arms were flung about her neck and passionate, child- ish kisses Pressed her forehead and her ,cheeks and her lips. Then he slipped to his knees and put his face in her 'lap "God bless my )papa -and keep my mamma -and make little Eric brave and 'good -for (Jesus' sake—" the child: hesitated. ".Amen," prompted the gentle voice of the mother. "And keep little 'Eric for my mam- ma so she won't cry," 'added the child, "for !Jesus' sake -Amen," and he scrambled to his feet. A low, piercing whistle out the night air 'like the !fight ra an arrow - shaft. It was Louis Laplante's 'si'gnal that Diable and the squaw were .com- ing 'back. ,At the sound, mother and child started up in alarm. Then they saw me standing in the open way. A wards! Hal There they come!" gasp of fright came from the white A shout of returning hunters arose woman's dips. I could tell from her from ,the ravine, at which Louis voice that she was all a -(tremble, and, .bounded for the tent on a run, dash- the little one began to whimper in a ing inside breathlessly, I 'followed smothered, suppressed way. close behind, I whispered one word-`"'Miriatn!" "Stay you here, inside, mind! 'Mon With a faint cry of anguialt, she Dieu! If you 'but show your face; 'tis leaped .forward. "ifs it you, Eric 0 two white men under 'one stone -pile! Eric! is it you?" she asked. Louis Laplante is a fool-dammie-a '''No -no, Miriam, not Eric, but fool -to help. you, his enemy, or any Eric's friend, 'Ru'fus Gillespde," She tattered as if I had struck her. I caught her in nay arms and helped her to the couch of robes. Then I took up my station facing the tent •entrance; for I realized the significance of Laplante's warning. "We have 'hunted for more than a year for you," I whispered, bending over her, "but the Sioux murdered our messenger and the other you yourself let out of the tent!" "'That -your messenger for the?" she asked in sheer amazement, ,prov- ing what I had suspected, that she was kept in .ignorance of our efforts. " "I have been here for a week, searching the lodges. 'My horses are in the valley, and we •must dare all in one attempt" have given my word d will not try," she hastily interrupted, begin- ning to pluck at her red shawl in the frenzied way of ,delirious fever pat- ient. "If we are •caught, they will 'tor- ture us, torture the child 'before my eyes. They treat him well now and leave me alone as long as I 'do not try to •break away. What can you, one man, do against two thousand Si- oux?" and she began to weep, chok- ing back the anguished sobs, that shook her slender 'frame, and 'picking feverishly at the red shawl fringe. To look at that agonized face would have been sacrilege, and in .a helpless nonplussed way, I kept gazing at the painful workings of the thin, frail fingers. That plucking of the wasted, trembling hands 'haunts me to this day; and never do I see the 'fingers of a nervous, sensitive woman working in that delirious, aimless fashion 'but it sets me 'wondering to what painful treatment.from a 'brutalized nature she has 'been subjected, that her hands !take on .the tricks of one in the last stages of disease. It may be only the fancy of an old trader, 'baht I dare avow, if any sympathetic observer takes note of this simple trick of dom- estic tragedies and 'heart-burnings. "Miriam," said I, in answer to her timid protest, "Eric has risked his life seeking you. 'Won't you try all 'for Erie's sake? There'll be little risk! We'll wait for a dark, boisterous, stormy night, and you will roll out of your tent the way you 'thrust my In- dian out. I'll have my horses ready. I'll creep up 'behind and whisper through the tent." "Where is Eric?" she asked, begin- ning to waver. Two shrill, sharp whistles tame from Louis Laplante, commanding me to come out of the tent. "That's my signal! I must go Quick, Miriam, will you try?' "I will do what you wish," she an- swered, so low, I had to kneel to catch the words. "A stormy night our signal, then," I •cried. Three, sharp, terrified• whistles, sig- nifying, "We are caught, save your- self," came from Laplante, and I flung myself on the ground 'behind Miriam, "Spread out your arms, 'M'iriam! Quick!" I urged: "Talk to the boy, or we're trapped." With her shawl spread out full and her elbows sticking akimbo, she caught the 'lad in her arms and 'began dandling' him to right and left, hum- ming some nursery ditty. At the same moment there loomed in the tent en- trance the great, statuesque figure of the Sioux squaw, whom .I had seen in the gorge. I kicked my feet under the canvas wall, while Miriarn's swaying shawl completely concealed me from the Sioux woman and thus I crawled out 'backwards. Then I lay outside the tent and listened, listened with my hand on my pistol; for what might' not that monster of fury attempt with other man at his own risk," With these enigmatical words, the Frenchman hurried ant, 'fastening the tent :flap after him and 'leaving Inc to reflect on the wild impulses of his wayward nature. Was this strange, un- willing generosity the result of ani- mosity to the big squaw, who seemed to exercise some suibtle and com- manding influence ,over hien; or Of gratitude to me? Was the noble blood that coursed in his veins, ,dir- ecting him in spite of his 'degenerate tendencies; or had the man's heart been touched by the sight of a 'white woman's suffering? If his alarm at the sound of returning hunters had not been so palpably genuine -'for he turned pale to the lips -I might have suspected treachery. But there was no mistaking the motive of 'fear that hur- ried him to the tent; and with Le Grand Diable among the hunters, Louis might well fear to be seen in my company. There was a hubbub of trappers returning to the lodges. I heard horses turned free and tent - poles clattering to the ground; .but Laplante did not comeback till it was late and the Indians had separated for the night, "I can take you to her!" he whisp- ered, his voice thrilling with sup- pressed emotion. "Le Grand Diable and the squaw have gone to the val- ley to set snares! And when S whistle, come out quickly! Mon (Dieu! I•f you're caught, both our sca'l'ps .go! Dammie! Louis is a fool. I take you to her; but I pay you back all the same!" "To whom?" The question throb- bed with a rush to my dips. 'Stu'pid dolt!" snarled Louis. "Fol- low me! 'Keep your ears open for my whistle -one -they return - two - come out of the .tent -three, we are caught, save yourself!" I followed the .Frenchman in sil- ence. It was a hazy summer might with just enough light from the sickle moon for us to pick our way past the lodges to a large newly -erected wig- wam with a small white tent 'behind. "This way," whispered Louis, 'lead- ing through the first to an opening hidden by a hanging robe. Raising the skin, he shoved me forward 'and hast- ened out to keep guard. The figure of a woman with a child in her arms was silhouetted against the white tent wall. She was sitting on some robes, 'crooning in a low voice to the child, .and was unaware of my presence. "And was my little Eric at - the hunt, and did he soot an arrow all by himself " she asked, 'fondling the facd that snuggled against her shoulder. The boy 'gurgled back a low, hap- py laugh and lisped some childish reply, which only a mother could translate. "And he will grow big, big and be a great warrior and .fight --fight for his poor mother," she whispered, low- ering her voice and caressing the child's curls. The little fellow sat up of a sudden facing his mother and struck out squarely with both fists, not uttering a word., My brave, !brave'little lEricl My y one, all that God has left to me!" soblbed hiding 'her weeping :face the child's neck. "0 my God, let rbut keep my little one) Thou has rn him to me and I .have treasured as a 'jewel' from Thine awn" own) 0 my 'God, let me but keep darling, keep him as Thy -�an'd-O my God! -Thy -Thy - wild be done!" The words 'brogue ina moan and the d began to cry. Slush, dearie l The 'birds never cry, onl she on Inc :give him 'Cr my and Thy hide you in my tent? But remember Ilchil pay you back in your own coin after- " THURSDAY, JULY .7, 1938 flet out a mouthful of quick barlcia Jerking, off my 'hoots -I had not taken to the native •custoatt of mo casins-I dodged across the roadw into the exaggerated shadow of son Indian camp utruckery. fee I fell fl to the ground so that no reflect' should, betray my movements, Th I remembered II had forgotten Lou Laplante's saddles. Rising, 'I di black to the tepee for it and wait 'for the dogs to quiet before coni out again. That alert oan4ne had s up a duet with a neighboring bru like restless instincts and the t seemed to promise 'an endless .chor' As I live, I could have sworn th Louis Laplante laughed in his sle at my dilemma; hut Louis was of t sort to laugh in the face of death self. A man Ifiew from a lodge dealing out stout •blows 'quickly s cooed the vicious curs; but .I had let time ;lapse tor 'the man to go sleep before I could venture out. ;Once more, •ohirp of orioket, cro of frog and the rush of wat through the valley were the o sounds, and I' 'darted across• to t camp shadow. Lying flat, I began crawl cautiously .and laboriously t wards my horses. One gave a s'tartl snort as 'I approached and this set t dogs going again. I lay motionless the grass till all was quiet ,and th crept gently round to the far side my favorite horse and caught his h ter strap lest lie should whinny, start' away. I drew erect directly op- posite his .shoulders, so that I co not be seen from the lodges and 'al hobbling his feet, led him ,into concealment of a ,group of ponies a had the saddle on in a trice. To g the horse to the rear of Miriam's to was no easy matter. I. paced my st so deftly with the broncho's and .I him munch grass so often, the mo watchful Lndian could not have d tested a man on the far side of t horse, directing every move, Behi the Sioux lodge, the earth sloped a ruptly away, bare and precipitou and I left the ,horse :below and cla beret up the steep to the white wa of Miriam's tent. Once the do threatened to create a •disturbanc but a man quieted them, and •wi gratitude I recognized the voice Laplante. Three tines I tapped on the cane but there 'was no. response, I .put m arm under the tent and rapped on t•1 ground. Why did she not signal? W the Sioux squaw 'from 'lite other lot listening? I could hear nothing Ib the tossings of the •child. "Miriam," I called, shoving my ar forward and feeling out 'blindly. Thereupon, a woman's hand grasp ed mine and thrust it out, while a voice so low it might have been the .breeze carie to my ear -"We are watched." Watched What did it matter if we were? Had I not dared ant? Must not she do the same? This was the last chance. We must 'not be foiled. My horse, I knew, 'could outrace any cay use of the Sioux band. "Miriam," I whispered 'back, lifting the canvas, "t'h'ey will take you away to -morrow -my horse is here! Come! nc We ust.risk a'ld1" And I shoved myself 'bodily in un- der the tent wall. She was not a hand's length away, sitting with her face to the entrance of Diable's lodge, her figure rigid and tense with fear. In the half night I could discern the great, powerful, angular form of a gi- antess in the opening. 'Twas the Sioux squaw. Miriam .leaned far - ward to cover the child with a motion to conceal me, and I drew quickly out, I thought 'I had not 'beenoletected; but the situation was perilous enough, in all conscience, 'to inspire caution and I was backing away, whin sod denly the shadows of two men cant- ing from opposite sides appeared on the white tent, and something sprang upon me with tigerish fury. There was the swish of an unsheathing :bide, and I felt rather .than saw Le Grand Diable and Louis Laplante contesting over Inc. 'Meyer! He's mine, my 'captive! He stole my •sad'd'le! He's mine, I tell you," ground out the Frenchman throwing off my assailant. "Keep him for the warriors and let him be tor- tured," .urged Louis, snatc'hin'g at the Indian's arm. S sprang up. It was Louis, who trip- ped my feet from under me, and we two tumbled to the 'bottom of the cliff, while the Indian stood albove snarling out something in the Sioux tongue. "Idiot! 'Anglo-Saxon oar muttered Louis, grappling with me as we fell. "Do !bet act it oat, or two scalps ,go! I promise mine when I. say I help you, bah ---"That was the last I recall; for I went dawn bead 'backwards, and the 'blow 'knocked me senseless. When, came to, with an aching neck and a humming in my ' oars, there was, the gray light of a waning /neon; arid' I found myself lying ,bound in Miriam's tent. !Her child was whimpering timidly an'd she was bur-: riedly gathering her belongings into a small bundle. CPU vgs. yet c- Medical ay 'DR. E. A. McMASTIER-Graduate w of the .Faculty of Medicine, Univers- at ity of•Toronto, and of the New Yo ton Post' Graduate':S'c'hool and Hospital. en Member of the College of Physicians is and. !Surgeons of Ontario. Office on vel High street. Phone 27. Office 'fully' ed' equ'i'pped for x-ray •diagnosis and for ng ultra short wave electric treatment, 'et ultra violet sun lamp ,treatment ams. ute infra sed electric treatment. Nurse in wo attendance, US.'. PROFESSIONAL CARDS at ep he it - and 11- to to alc err my he 'to ed he in en of al' or n - the nd et nt ePS et st he nd b - s; m- 11gs th of as y le a g u m e DR. 'GILJB'ERJT C. JAR'ROTT - Graduate of 'Faculty of 'Medicine, Un- iversity of Western 'Ontario. 'Mea'ilber of 'College of •Physicians and'Su'r'geons of Ontario. Office 43 Goderich street west. Phone 317. ,Hours 2-4.30 pan., 7.39-9 p.m. 'Other 'hours by appoint- ment. Successor to Dr. Chas. 'Mackay, DR. H. H'UtGIH ROSS, Physician and Surgeon Late of London Hos- pital, London, 'England. Special at- tention to diseases of the eye, ear,. nose and throat. Office and residence behind Dominion Bank. Office Phone No. '5; Residence Phone 104. DR, F. J. BURROWS, Seiforth. Office and residence, 'Goderich street, east of the United. Church, Coroner for ,the County of Huron, Telephone. No. 416. D. F. J. R. ;F!ORS'TER-Eye Ear, Nose .and Throat. 'Graduate in Medicine, University of Toronto 41647. Lame Assistant New York Ophthal- mic and Aural `Institute, Moorefield's Eye, and 'Golden Square throat 'hospi- tals, London. At Commercial Hotel, Seaforth, third 'Wednesday in each Month from 1.30 p.m. to d .p.m. DR. W. C. SPROiAT Physician - Surgeon Phone 90-W. 'Office John :St, Seafortd- Auctioneer. GEORGE .ELLIiOTT, Licensed rAu'ationeer for the County of Huron. (Arrangements can he made for Sale Date at The Seaforth News. Charges moderate and satisfaction guaranteed. F. W. AH1RE!NS, 'Licensed Auction- eer for Perth and Huron Counties. Sales Solicited. Terms on Application. Farm Stock, chattels and rs1 estate property. R. R. No. 4, 'Mitchell. ?hone 634 r 6. Apply at this office. WATSON & REID REAL ESTATE AND INSURANCE AGENCY (Successors to James Watson) MAIN ST., SEAFORTH, ONT. All kinds of Insurance risks effect- ed at lowest rates in )First -Class Companies. THE McKILLOP Mutual Fire In � Insurance Co HEAD OFFICE-SEAFORTH, Ont. OFFICERS President, Thomas Moylan, Sea - forth; Vice President, ;William Knox, Londeslbaro; Secretary Treasurer, M. A. Reid, Seaforth, Allit•ENTS F. MdKereher, R•.'Rd1, Dublin; John E. 'Pepper, 1t1R,1, Brucefield; E. R. G. Jkrmouth, Brodhagen; .James Watt, Blyth; C. ,F. Hewitt, Kin'card'ine; Wun. Yeo, ,Hrolmesville. DIRECTORS Alex. Broadfoot, Seaforth No. 3;. Dames S'hoidice, Walton; Wm. Knox„ Londes'boro; George Leonhardt, Bornholm. No. 1; Frank 1lefoGregor,• Clinton No. 5; James Connolly, God- erich; Alex McEwing, Blyth No. 1; Thomas Moylan, Seaforth No. 5; Wm. R. Archibald, Sealforth No. 4. Parties desirous to effect insurance or transact other 'business, will be promptly attended to by applications to any of the 'above named officers addressed to their respective post - offices. "Miriam, what has happened?" I asked. Then the .whole struggle and failure came back to me with an over- whelming realization that torture and death would be our portion. "Try no more," she 'whispered,. brushing past me and ma'kin'g as though she were gathering things, where I lay. 'Weyer try, for my sake, never try! They will torture you. I shall die soon. Only save the oluldl For myself, I am past 'caring. Good - by forever!" and she dashed to the other side of the tent, At that, with a deal of noisy mirth, in burst 'Laplante and the Skill= squaw. (To be continued) "Your wife seems 'to be one of the sort that always has the 'last •word." 'Yes, but the worst of it is she has' ninety-nine per cent ,of the words that precede the last one:"