File:Outing (1885) (14578349108).jpg

Identifier: outing48newy (find matches)
Title: Outing
Year: 1885 (1880s)
Authors:
Subjects: Leisure Sports Travel
Publisher: (New York : Outing Pub. Co.)
Contributing Library: Tisch Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Boston Library Consortium Member Libraries

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er again. Each night before he slept he solemnlyrepeated his vow to kill the girl som-taim, and each day he watched every-thing and every one about the Post furtive-ly, but learned nothing. The questionsabout Le Renard faded away. He mus ha lost hisself, the factorsaid. But Poleon knew and he chafed at hisown powerlessness. All winter he workedon at his traps, and when spring came hehad a good credit account at the store. Ah goin be marry, he announcedabruptly one day to the factor. Who? the latter asked. Wa-gush. (Little Fox.) She is a fox, too, and the Scotchmanchuckled, but I hae nae doubt ye can beather well enou to keep her frae foxin, andhe laughed aloud. Ah loove her, dat all I know, Poleonanswered gravely and went out of the store. On a glorious June day, when the treeswere green with springing life, and the airwarm with the luxury of the coming shortmonths of heat, Poleon was married to Wa-gush, the little Indian girl he had grown tolove, if a rough mastership with a passion-
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Wa-Gush 557 ate adoration besides can be called love.All the Post were there, and when the Jes-uit father pronounced his blessing, theycheered. Wa-gush and Phine took up their homein a large, fine tepee that Poleon hadbuilt for the occasion. The girl was slim,but strong in body, muscular and active.Her face was of the Chippewa type, withlong, slender nose, aloe eyes, high fore-head, straight black hair, tiny feet andhands. Dieu, Ah loove you! Poleon whisperedsoftly to her one night as the little supperfire flamed and spluttered at their feet.She looked at him and her eyes narrowedmore than ever. An Ah loove you! she answered soft-ly, tapping her beaded moccasins with alittle stick. Poleon never beat her; on the contraryhe carried the wood, built the fires, hauledthe nets on the lake; in short, did every-thing that is usually done by the squaws—so much so that the Post laughed athim. Ye do love her, dont ye, Poleon? thefactor said one day sarcastically. Ah-hai (yes), he answered. All

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