Adventure Magazine Cover, April 3, 1918 — page 8: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

6 Adventure them in the Hudson’s Bay Company’s ser- vice, the voyageur had never solved the intangible mystery that he fancied surrounded the priest. Never in those twenty-one years had Drummond fairly seen the man Andrews, his figure or his face. Always he looked upon a gown eas seemed to him to shroud and to conceal, upon head-gear that was something of a mask. Now, in Summer, it was the heavy dun cowl and the thick mosquito veil. In Winter it was the dun cowl and a fur-fringed, helmet- like hood on his capote that proved just as impenetrable. Drummond always imagined that if An- drews but dropped the mask his mystery would dissolve, and the suspended possibility continually fretted and irritated him. Mon Dieu, why could not the man be human like the rest of these large-thewed, tangible Northmen? He was tired of watching an elusive ghost flitting about in a black gown. And why /e diable had Andrews started and lurched the canoe just now? Was it because of a mosquito-bite or was it because he, Eugene, had voiced the name of Ralph Wayne? ‘The voyageur determined to watch and see, but as he went on to speak further of the Free-Trader, his shrewd dark eyes could read nothing, for the priest now sat impassive, still rubbing lightly the thumb of his left gauntlet along the back of his right. “Dis man Wayne is de great powaire in dat West,” elucidated Eugene, “‘an’ he be built wan stronghold Fort Wayne to defend hees district. He be de mightiest of de in- dependents, de leader of dem all, an’ he be de enemy, as mooch as de Nor’westaires, dat we have to fight an’ absorb.” Carlisle, listening, nodded ponderously, his face clouded, his forehead ridged in a frown, as if he weighed the voyageur’s news within himself and found it of heavy portent. His nod was a sign of complete understanding and an intimation for Eugene to go on. “So as well as to warn you about Grande Portage bein’ closed I be come out to tell you of dis man Wayne. He be beeg menace to de Nor’westaires, joost lak us, an’ dey’re goin’ to fight an’ absorb heem ——— queeck.”’ “How quick?” demanded the Factor. “Dis night. I sign on wit’ de Nor’west- aires an’ wear deir clothes to get de infor- mation, an’ I’m come down from de West wit? wan Lake Winnipeg brigade. We pass Wayne dis mornin’ on de Pigeon River. He be on hees way to Montreal wit’ hees sea- son’s furs. He make de Portage dis evenin’. He ain’t know she’s closed. ‘De Nor’westaires tell heem w’en he come in, an’ den dey’re goin’ absorb heem on de spot. An’ dat ain’t de worst, eider. Hees daughter Joan Wayne be travelin’ wit’ heem to Montreal an’ de Nor’west partners goin’ seize her along wit’ her father. Wan of de partners has hees eye on her dis long taim, so dey tell me in de post.” “Which partner?” Carlisle’s words slipped forth, sharp as slitting steel. “Richelieu!” “Then this thing’s serious, Eugene,” declared the Factor, ‘‘and it means that you and I have to get into Grande Portage this aiternoon. Wemust meet Wayne’s brigade at the other end of the Portage and warn him and his daughter. We must do it for trade and other reasons. You have your disguise all ready. We'll go ashore and fashion mine.” “Ba gar,” cried Drummond with a gri- mace, ‘I’m t’ink I’m done wit’ dose diabdle trappings, but she’s de good cause an’ in de good cause I’m glad to wear dem leetle longaire. An’ you, Factor, I’m t’ink mebbe you pick wan off de lake!”’ He pointed straight down the north shore. “You see wan Iroquois Indian paddle in to Grande Portage dis afternoon? Ver’ well, dat’s de guide of de Montreal mail canoe. De courier send heem ahead de last few miles to report de mail comin’. An’ I’m know she’s comin’ soon, for yon- daire’s paddles flashin’ lak loons’ wings off de Temple Rock.”’ THE Hudson’s Bay brigade lay fairly in the sun glare streaming like a path of gold across the heaving lake The sun itself was at their backs as a swells. they all stared in the indicated direction, and they could see without being readily seen. “By heavens, you’re right!’ exclaimed Carlisle. “It surely is the Montreal canoe. I take your hint, Drummond. It is as the courier I shall goin. Missowa,’’ command- ing the Ojibway steersman, “‘lie in the shelter of yon small island. We can not be seen there, and there it does not matter to us whether the Northwester takes the inside or the outside passage. Eugene, fall in with the other craft behind.”’ At a spoken word from Missowa the port COnnicloookxs (C@