"And now," said Radisson, "we must act."
While we were spying through the woods, watching the English build
their fort, I thought that I saw a figure flitting through the bush to
the rear. I dared not fire. One shot would have betrayed us to the
English. But I pointed my gun. The thing came gliding noiselessly
nearer. I clicked the gun-butt without firing. The thing paused.
Then I called M. Radisson, who said it was Le Borgne, the wall-eyed
Indian. Godefroy vowed 'twas a spy from Ben Gillam's fort. The Indian
mumbled some superstition of a manitou. To me it seemed like a
caribou; for it faded to nothing the way those fleet creatures have of
skimming into distance.
CHAPTER XII
M. RADISSON BEGINS THE GAME
M. Radisson had reckoned well. His warning to prepare for instant
siege set all the young fire-eaters of our Habitation working like
beavers to complete the French fort. The marquis took a hand at
squaring timbers shoulder to shoulder with Allemand, the pilot; and La
Chesnaye, the merchant prince, forgot to strut while digging up
earthworks for a parapet. The leaven of the New World was working.
Honour was for him only whose brawn won the place; and our young
fellows of the birth and the pride were keenest to gird for the task.
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