Adventure Magazine Cover, March 20, 1925 — page 142: what you’re looking at

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

124 feel my claws. He goes to fight the Iroquois. I will not dig up an ax against any man who fights for New France. I am pleasant even to Turcot, the assassin; and to John Black, who is worse than Turcot, because he has more in his head.”’ Long Point had been reached late in the afternoon, and Durantaye announced that the start for the Niagara would be made in the morning. Perrot found Carcajou at the camp of the coureurs de bois and took him aside to suggest: “It might be well for you to reconnoiter ahead of the army and see what you find at the portage, my friend.” Carcajou, ever ready for adventure, sur- prized him by replying: “M’sieur shall command; but there is my promise made to the Ottawas and Hurons at St. Ignace. If I go ahead of the army I can not keep that promise.”’ Perrot was puzzled, and the bush loper explained: “I believe I said much the same to you, m’sieur. I must prove I am cunning as a wolverene and am worthy of my name. I must discover who kills our Frenchmen with poisoned rum; who kills our savages with French axes. And there is the dead Tionontati man killed at the Narrows. And I remember now a bullet nearly hit me when we killed a bear on Bald Point. M’sieur said I was not cunning to leave that mystery behind me. I told the Ottawas at _ St. Ignace I would learn the truth before we ‘made the Niagara portage. Here, on this point, is my last chance to keep my word.” “You will learn nothing here,” dis- couraged Perrot. ‘‘The time to discover the assassin at the Narrows was when you were at the Narrows. The time to find the slayer of the Ottawa men was when you were at St. Ignace. It is the poisoned rum that worries me. The Ottawas and Hurons suspect that one of my Potawatomis did that. Either some one has told them lies, or they are remembering the Potawatomis make much root-medicine.”’ “Some one has talked,” promptly decided Carcajou. “If I can find that man I will be close to the killer. The Potawatomis make good medicine and make the most of it from ginseng that hurts no one. So, m’sieur, if I have my way I shall stay here tonight.” “Very well. But you'll learn nothing. The trail is too old. The scent is dead Adventure even for a wolverene. And while we are talking, my friend, there is this: When I thanked Monsieur Durantaye for the trade goods he seemed to be displeased and told me, “Thank the Wolverene.’ That was odd. I fear something has been hidden from me.” “Some men claim all the credit. A few are big enough to give it all away,” aimiably remarked Carcajou. ‘Yet it was the Wol- verene who made the trade. Our leader was surprized that I made such a good trade. Ma foi! How I worked!” “Monsieur Du _ Lhut’s bearing was strained,” added Perrot; and he eyed the bush loper sharply. “In confidence, m’sieur, I fear M’sieur Du Lhut is jealous of other traders, and re- grets giving away so many goods to the Ottawas and Hurons.” But Perrot retained his suspicions and insisted: “There is something queer about those goods you traded. Monsieur Durantaye makes me feel that nothing will be said about it as we have bloody work ahead of us. But you must bear yourself well un- less you wish to hear from it after we’ve whipped the Iroquois.” “Put me ahead of the best fighting men,” stoutly said Carcajou. “I will show you how I will make those pagan rascals take to the bush. I have dreamed of many elks.” Then his braggadocio vanished, and he was lamenting: “But that poor Fontaine! He surely has dreamed of bears. What will they do with the prisoners, m’sieur?”’ “Watch your tongue when you speak of a deserter,” sternly warned Perrot. Then more amiably, ‘““The prisoners will be sent on to Montreal to be dealt with later.” He turned back to where the officers were messing and cursing the kettle of sagamity, which some Indian had spoiled for them by adding tallow. g| CHE Wolverene rejoined his friends. | Brouwer was seated behind Dead Bear and smoking his pipe in silence. Chartier was in high spirits at the prospect of returning to Quebec after the business in the Long House had been settled. By this time he was a prime favorite with the woods runners. They had learned he had courage, the first requisite for endorsement; and they loved his sentimental songs. Papa La Blanche was sad this night. GOMIGIOO CO