Out on the breast of the great blue lake it, too, was shot by the
rushing waters, lone little cockleshell, to head its prow to the
eastward, where the green shore curved away, to take its infinitesimal
chance of victory against all odds.
When the sun came out of the eastern forest, a golden ball in a cloud
of fire, it saw the light craft already cutting the cool waters of
Winnipeg. When it sank into the western woods the bobbing dot was still
shooting forward.
Child of the wilderness by birth was Dupre, child of the wilderness by
dream and desire was Maren, and its simple courage was inborn in both.
The Indians were a day and night ahead, hurrying by dawn and dusk to
the north, that the body of the dead chief, cured like a mummy by the
smoke curling from the big tepee at every stop, might have burial, the
earth-bound spirit begin its journey to the shadowy hunting-grounds.
When McElroy took his last look backward at the blue lake from the
northern end, Maren and Dupre were making their last camp before the
Big Bend on the eastern shore.
"How soon, think you, M'sieu?" she asked that night, standing beside
the little fire; "how soon will they come,--the H.
Pages:
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191