"Ze chat only fear for her babies. She
have zem in dat tree. We will go past leeving zem streectly
alone, eh?"
"No!" cried Nan hastily. "I'm going back to the camp. I didn't
know there were such dangerous things as that in these woods."
"Ah! You are de strange leetle Mam'zelle den?" responded the
man. "You do not know ze Beeg Woods?"
"I guess I don't know anything about this wilderness," confessed
Nan. "My uncle brought me to the camp up yonder this morning,
and I hope he'll go right home again. It's awful!"
"Eet seem terrifying to ze leetle Mam'zelle because she is unused
eh? Me! I be terrified at ze beeg city where she come from,
p'r'aps. Zey tell Pete 'bout waggings run wizout horses, like
stea'mill. Ugh! No wanter see dem. Debbil in 'em," and he
laughed, not unpleasantly, making a small joke of the suggestion.
Indeed his voice, now that the sharpness of excitement had gone
out of it, was a very pleasant voice. The broken words he used
assured Nan that his mother tongue must be French. He was
probably one of the "Canucks" she had heard her cousins speak of.
French Canadians were not at all strange to Nan Sherwood, for in
Tillbury many of the mill hands were of that race.
But she thought it odd that this man kept his face studiously
turned from her.
Pages:
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143