"I! 'Tis worth a year of the
fur trade!"
"And I!"
"And I!"
"And I!"
Once more she had made her appeal to man, man in the abstract, and once
more he had come to her, this maid of dreams.
Mr. Mowbray had lost half his brigade had he not fixed on those who
were the strongest among the volunteers, the best canoe-men, the best
shots.
Such were these men of the wilderness, excitable, ready for any hazard,
drawn by the longest odds, and to serve a woman gave the last zest to
danger.
Seldom enough did a woman appeal to them in such romantic wise.
"Brilliers,--Alloybeau,--Wilson," picked out Mr Mowbray, with a finger
pointing his words; "McDonald,--Frith,--make ready the fourth canoe,
Take store of pemmican and all things necessary for light travel and
quick. From to-morrow you will answer to Ma'amselle. When she is
through with you report to me, either at Cumberland or York, according
to the time."
And he left his men to walk over and seat himself beside Maren Le Moyne
on the shingle.
It was dark of the moon and the night was thick with stars and forest
sounds. Out on the lake beyond the ranged canoes at the water's edge,
the fish were slapping.
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