“Ah mus’ go to-mor’,” Verbaux decided as he listened to these sounds of the summer wilderness; the heartache to find Marie overpowered him. He paddled slowly back, dipping the blade lightly into the dark waters; the soft lap of the little wave at the bow of the canoe sounded like liquid music to his ears, and he sighed as it ceased and changed to the harsh, sandy grating of land. He lifted the light craft, carried it on shore and turned it over, then he went to the tepee and lay down to sleep. “For de las’ taime,” he promised himself as he felt nature’s unconsciousness approaching.
The hard patter of rain on the skins woke him, and he got up and looked out. The heavens were dark and lowering, and the rain poured in thin sheets from the low-hanging clouds; it coursed in streamlets from the roofs of the buildings and twisted its way out under the stockade, furrowing deeper as he watched it. The roar of the falling drops in the forest came to him murmuringly. A heavy fog spread across the big lake, motionless and thick; the air was tinged with warmth. Jules made his preparations to go: he tied up his blankets, putting his food, tea, and the clothes he had made between them. Then he ate a cold breakfast and went out in the wet to the factor’s house.
The Scotchman listened to Verbaux’s frank admission of his intended departure, then he laughed.
“Na, na, ye’ll no be gangin’ awhile yit. I want ye to bide and wait for the big brigade that’ll coom now damn soon,” he answered.
“Ah tak’ back ma promesse!” Jules said, shrugging his shoulders as he left; but the factor only laughed again incredulously.
Verbaux waited all day in his tepee; he called his dogs and caressed them for the last time. In the afternoon the rain ceased and only the drip, drip from the soaking roofs remained of the earlier splashing fall. The trappers and Indians were in their tepees, some asleep, others talking, their voices sounding muffled and dead in the damp air.
Jules listened; no one moved. He took up his meagre load, left the tepee, crossed the yard, and went out of the gate unnoticed. His team leader trotted up to him, and Verbaux patted the big shaggy head kindly. The dark mist rolled upon the bank and enshrouded the trees; Jules disappeared into it, and soon a light scratching sound was audible, then an instant’s gurgle of disturbed water. That slight sound was heard by a figure that appeared dimly on the bank. It listened, then ran back to the post and hurried to Jules’s tepee, glanced in, saw that it was stripped of everything, and rushed, calling loudly, to the Store.