The Fur Bringers | Page 5

a glance in the direction of his young partner.
"That is news! Who is she?"
"Colina Gaviller, the trader's daughter," said Poly.
"Is she real white?" asked Peter cautiously.
"White as raspberry flowers!" asseverated Poly with extravagant
gestures; "white as clouds in the summer! white as sugar! Her hair is
lak golden-rod; her eyes blue lak the lake when the wind blows over it
in the morning!"
Peter glanced again at his partner, but Ambrose was farthest from the
window, and there was nothing to be read in his face.
"Sure," said Peter; "but was her mother a white woman ?"
"They say so," said Poly. "Her long tam dead."

"When did the girl come?" asked Peter.
"Las' fall before the freeze-up," said Poly. "She come down the Spirit
River from the Crossing on a raf'. Michel Trudeau and his wife, they
bring her. Her fat'er he not know she comin'. Her fat'er want her live
outside and be a lady. She say 'no!' She say ladies mak' her sick.'
Michel tell me she say that.
"She want always to ride and paddle a canoe and hunt. Michel say she
is more brave as a man! John Gaviller say she got go out again this
summer. She say 'no!' She is not afraid of him. Me, I t'ink she lak to be
the only white girl in the country, lak a queen."
"How old is she?" inquired Peter.
"Twenty years, Michel say," answered Poly. "Ah! she is beautiful!" he
went on. "She walk the groun' as sof' and proud and pretty as fine yong
horse! She sit her horse like a flower on its stem. Me and her good
frens too. She say she lak me for cause I am simple. Often in the winter
she ride out wit' my team and hunt in the bush while I am load up."
"What did Eelip say to that?" Peter inquired facetiously. Eelip was
Poly's wife.
"Eelip?" queried Poly, surprised. "Colina is the trader's daughter," he
carefully explained. "She live in the big house. I would cut off my hand
to serve her."
"I suppose Miss Colina has plenty of suitors?" said Peter.
Ambrose hung with suspended breath on the reply.
Poly shook his curly pate. "Who is there for her?" he demanded.
"Macfarlane the policeman is too fat; the doctor is too old, his hair is
white; the parson is a little, scary man. All are afraid of her; her proud
eye mak' a man feel weak inside. There are no ot'er white men there.
She is a woman. She mus' have a master. There is no man in the
country strong enough for that!"

There was a brief silence in the cabin while Poly relighted his cigar.
Ambrose had given no sign of being affected by Poly's tale beyond a
slight quivering of the nostrils. But Peter watching him slyly, saw him
raise his lids for a moment and saw his dark eyes glowing like coals in
a pit. Peter chuckled inwardly, and said:
"Tell us some more about her."
Ambrose's heart warmed gratefully toward his partner. He thirsted for
more like a desert traveler for water, but he dared not speak for fear of
what he might betray.
"I will tell you 'ow she save Michel Trudeau's life," said Poly, nothing
loath, "I am the first to come down the river this summer or you would
hear it before. Many times Michel is tell me this story. Never I heard
such a story before. A woman to save a man!
"Wa! Every Saturday night Michel tell it at the store. And John
Gaviller give him two dollars of tobacco, the best. I guess Michel is
glad the trader's daughter save him. Old man proud, lak he is save
Michel himself!"
Poly Goussard, having smoked the cigar to within half an inch of his
lips, regretfully threw the half inch out the door. He paused, and
coughed suggestively. A second cigar being forthcoming, he took the
time to light it with tenderest care. Meanwhile, Ambrose kicked the
bale on which he sat with an impatient heel.
"It was the Tuesday after Easter," Poly finally began. "It was when the
men went out to visit their traps again after big time at the fort. There
was moch frash snow fall, and heavy going for the dogs. Colina
Gaviller she moch friends with Michel Trudeau for because he was
bring her in on his raf las' fall.
"Often she go with him lak she go with me. Michel carry her up on his
sledge, and she hunt aroun' while he visit his traps. Michel trap up on
the bench three mile from the fort. He not get much fur so near, but live
home in a warm house, and work for day's wages for