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Parker, Gilbert, 1860-1932

"Northern Lights, Volume 1."

An' I mus' do it," he
rejoined, with an emphasis there was no mistaking. "You can show me dat
way?"
She went to a drawer and took out a piece of paper. Then, with a point
of blackened stick, as he watched her and listened, she swiftly drew his
route for him.
"Yes, I get it in my head," he said. "I go dat way, but I wish--I wish
it was dat queeck way. I have no fear, not'ing. I go w'en dat moon
rise--I go, bien sur."
"You must sleep, then, while I get some food for you." She pointed to a
couch in a corner. "I will wake you when the moon rises."
For the first time he seemed to realise her, for a moment to leave the
thing which consumed him, and put his mind upon her.
"You not happy--you not like me here?" he asked simply; then added
quickly, "I am not bad man like me brudder--no."
Her eyes rested on him for a moment as though realising him, while some
thought was working in her mind behind.
"No, you are not a bad man," she said. "Men and women are equal on the
plains. You have no fear--I have no fear."
He glanced at the rifles on the walls, then back at her. "My mudder, she
was good woman. I am glad she did not lif to know what Fadette do." His
eyes drank her in for a minute, then he said: "I go sleep now, t'ank you
--till moontime.


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