The woman and I stood alone while the men jerked their way like
automatons from bush to tree. The chaos of their minds had numbed
their muscles, and they stripped the young boughs clumsily like a herd
of browsing moose. I did not look at the woman. I knew that she
needed all my courtesy, but it was hard to speak to her just then.
The men wandered for perhaps five minutes, then ranged themselves
before me. They bore a curious collection of grasses, mutilated
tamarack boughs, and crushed brakes. They eyed my sword hilt, and
looked ready for flight. Yet I was master, and they remembered it.
Had I ordered them to eat the fodder that they bore, they would not
have spoken, and I think that they would have endeavored to obey.
I pointed to the canoe where the woman was accustomed to sit. "Place
the greens there," I said. "Make a carpet of them where the red
blanket is lying. Work quickly,--then come here. No talking."
They obeyed. They dressed the canoe like a river barge on a fete day,
and again they lined themselves before me. I took the woman by the
hand.
"You have decked the canoe for my wedding journey," I said, and all my
perverse inner merriment suddenly died. "This traveler, whom you have
known as a man, is Mademoiselle Marie Starling and my promised wife.
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