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cattle to the gold fields. My brothers are already on the way. Somewhere in
Dakota, right now." "In Dakota? They got to be crazy! That's Sioux country,
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and those Sioux, they're fighters! Despise the white man, got no use for the
Winnebagos, the Crees, or the Blackfeet. They'll fight anybody." "We hope to
have no trouble. We'll be trying to avoid them." "Avoid them? Hah! I doubt if
a bird could fly over Dakota without them knowin' it. "That Molrone girl,
huntin' her brother. Like lookin' for one pine needle. But don't you worry
none! She'll find herself a husband! Women are almighty scarce, and the way I
see it there should be at least one in every family!" He looked up at Orrin,
smiling. "A man like you, you should latch onto her. Women that pretty are
hard to come by. She's a right pert little lady, too! Gumption, that's what
she's got! Took a sight of gumption to come all the way out here huntin' her
brother." He glanced at Orrin. "That feller with you. That Gavin feller, you
know him long?" "Met him on the stage." "Well, I like you, young feller, and
you watch yourself, d'you hear? You be careful." "Why?" "I'm just a tellin'
you. Watch yourself. Things ain't always what they seem." "What about this man
Riel?" "Don't know him. Knew his pa. A right good man. He spoke up for the
m`etis a time or two. Honest in his dealin's, level-headed man. Owned a mill
or something. Good man. "The young man's just back from Montreal. He was
studyin' to be a priest, I heard, then changed his mind, or they changed it
for him. "When those outsiders began to come in with their newfangled way of
surveyin', his ma sent for him to come home. She seen trouble comin'. "I
ain't sure he's the right man for it. He's a thoughtful young feller. Seems
reasonable. Been through here a time or two. "Now away out west, the way
you're a-goin', there's a man named Dumont, Gabriel Dumont. Captain of the
buffalo hunts! Those m`etis would follow him through hell! Good man! A great
man! Reminds me of that poem, writ by a man named Gray, somethin' in it about
"Cromwells guiltless of their country's blood" or some such thing. Well, I
seen a few in my lifetime! Men who had greatness but no chance to show it
elsewhere than here! I seen 'em! I seen a passel of them!" Nolan glanced at
him again. "You ever hear of Frog Town? Well, you fight shy of it. Rob you.
Cheat you. Knock you in the head or knife you. That's a bad lot. Sometimes the
steamer starts from there, dependin' on how high the water is. "Steamboatin'
on the Red ain't like the Mississippi. Mean. Mean an' cantankerous, that's
what it is. River's too high some of the time, too low most of the time, and
filled with sawyers, driftin' logs, and sandbars. No fit river for man or
beast." "But it flows north?" "That it does! That it does!" Nolan put a hand
on his sleeve. "Here she comes now, that Molrone girl. Say, is she the pretty
one! If I was single--to was Orrin turned toward her, smiling. She looked up
at him. "Oh! Mr. Sackett! I am so glad you are here! They say we must go from
here by oxcart, and I was wondering if--?" "You can go with us. We would have
it no other way. And we shall leave tomorrow morning, early." "I'll be
ready." He paused. "The offer includes Mrs. McCann." "You want her," Nolan
whispered, "you'd better act fast, young feller! She's too durned pretty to be
about for long!" There was a pause, and Nolan pulled his hat brim down and
started around the counter. "Don't envy you, young feller. Not one bit! You
got a long road to travel, an' it can be mean. Oh, there's folks done it!
Palliser done it, the Earl of Southesk, he done it, and, of course, folks like
David Thompson, Alexander Henry, and their like, but the Sioux weren't around
then, an' there wasn't all this trouble with the m`etis--" "But you said Riel
was a reasonable man?" "I did, an' I still say it. Trouble is, both them and
the army will need grub, they will need rifles and ammunition, and you'll have
'em--if you're lucky." "You made a reference to Gavin?" "I said nothing.
Only"--he paused--"I like a careful man. I always did like a careful man, and
you shape up like such. I said nothing else. Nothing a-tall!" He started for
the door, then turned and came back. "You get smart, young feller. You latch
on to that girl. You'll travel a weary mile before you see her kind again.
Ain't only she's pretty, she's game. She's got gumption! That's my kinda
woman, boy. That there's my kinda woman!"
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CHAPTER VIII It was cold and dark when he opened his eyes, holding himself
still for a long minute, just to listen. There were subdued rustles from the
next room where the women were, so they were already astir. Rising, he bathed
lightly and swiftly, then pulled on his pants and boots and began stropping
his razor. The vague light in the room was sufficient until he wished to
shave; then he lighted the coal-oil lamp. He shaved with care, and as he
shaved, he considered the situation. With luck they would be aboard the
International before sundown, and if they hoped to miss the mosquitoes, they
must be. Once aboard, he must settle down to some serious thinking, as well as
the planning of his every move once he reached Fort Garry. He rinsed his
razor, stropped it once more for the final touch-up, thinking as he did so. It
was a foolhardy venture at best, something not to be considered had not a
Sackett been in trouble. You can expect Higginses. To any Sackett the phrase
indicated trouble, but from whom? And why? Folding his razor, he put it away
in its case with his brush and soap, then completed dressing. He rolled his
blankets, including his spare pistol, then put out the light. Taking up his
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