It came one day
after long silence. The giant rested and wiped his forehead.
"There are plovers on the waters," he pointed. "They make good eating.
Singing Arrow can cook them with bear's grease. I am going to marry
the Indian when we get to Michillimackinac. Then when we reach
Montreal you will give her a dowry. There is the grain field on the
lower river that was planted by Martin. Martin has no wife. What does
he need of grain? The king wishes his subjects to marry. And if the
master gave us a house we could live, oh, very well. I thought of it
when I went through the Malhominis land and saw all those squashes.
The Indian sews her own dresses, and I shall tell her I do not like her
in finery. We will send a capon to the master every Christmas."
I grinned despite myself. I had grown fatuous, for I had taken it
without question that the oaf had followed from his loyalty to me. But
I nodded at him and promised recklessly--house, pigs, and granary. The
same star ruled master and man.
But the way was long, long, long. Nights came and days came, and still
more nights and days. Yet it ended at last. Late one afternoon we saw
the shore line that marked Michillimackinac.
Pages:
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316