George Tracy Marsh

“ When Jean Marcel had buried the frozen body of Joe Piquet in a drift over the ridge, where the April thaws would betray him to the mercy of his kind—the forest creatures of tooth and beak and claw—he started back to the Ghost with Fleur, taking Piquet’s rifle to be returned to his people with his fur and outfit. Confident that Antoine had had no part in the attempt to kill him and get his provisions, he wished Beaulieu to know Piquet’s fate, as Antoine would now in all probability make for Whale River and could carry a message. ”

“ Turning to the dog, snarling with hate of the prowling thing she had destroyed, Jean led her away.
“Fleur, ma petite!” he cried. “She take good care of Jean Marcel while he sleep! Piquet, he thought he keel us both in de tent.” The great dog, trembling with the heat of battle, her mane stiff, yelped excitedly. “She love Jean Marcel, my Fleur! And what a strength she has!” Rearing, Fleur placed her massive forepaws on Marcel’s chest, whining up into his face, then seizing a hand in her jaws, proudly drew him back to the dead man in the snow. ”

“ As Fleur drew him swiftly over the trail, ice-hard from much traveling, Jean decided that, if Antoine wished to fight out the winter in the Salmon country, for the sake of their old friendship he would overlook the half-breed’s weakness under Piquet’s influence and offer to take him. Dawn was wavering in the gray east when Marcel reached the silent camp. He called loudly to wake the sleeping man inside. ”