The Washington times., 1901-10-13
Il Down th0 Big Bend


That is a strange land down around
the Atchafaylaya and Bayou Penchant, a
vast brooding land of swamp and forest
and mysterious silence. Something of
the spirit of the place mas woven itself
into the natures of its sparse population,
endowing them with a touch of super
stition and romance that shows itself
constantly in their manner and conversa-
ton. So it is with Felicia Falisse an
old hunter who lives alone in a little
cabin on the edge of the Grand Cramoise
swamp. He came down to the marsh
country years ago from the Upper Mis-
souri,. and many story can he tell of
the old days on the great river, not only
of his own adventures but those of 9TH
ers who lived and worked long before his
day; stories of the time when st. Louis
was a tiny trading post of less than four
hundred souls, set in the midst of the
wilderness. and when the mighty Mis-
souri,. whose murky food now pours it
self past a hundred stately cities, could
boast hardly more than half score of
French traders cabins along all its
length OF 3,G00 miles.
Perhaps some afternoon when you are
sitting in the little lean-to back of his
cabin. watching him clean his rifle or
mend his traps, you viii tell him that old
Baptiste Belabre, up Passe Etroit way,
has told you something lately about how
Rerac Correze made out to slip through
the hostile Illinois one time on his way
to Quebec.
''IIoi' he will say. looking up from his
work. with n quick snap OF his little
black eyes. so B'elabre has been lying
to you again. has he? What does he
I'm Nv hat I
was named after, was with Berac there
and he told me all about it. B'elabre
knows nothing. But he always was a
great liar
he will be quiet for some time then,
and you will begin to think there is
an end of it. But presently he will say,
without looking up:
He is the same one that Felicia Fa-
lisse. my grandfather, who saved the
companys bateauX once on the Upper
Missouri. years and years ago. You have
heard about that? No? Well, 1 will tell
~ then, if you care to hear and l can
remember.
That Berac Correze whom B'elabre has
been lying about, together with my grand
father and one Laurent Mavot, ran a trad
ing post once in the old days for the Mis-
souri, Indian Trading Company. Their
cabin was at the mouth of the st. Jacques
River in the country of the Yanktonaie
Sioux. Nobody but the Indians knew that
river then more than a few miles above
the mouth. but thoy said it ran far up
through the prairie lands almost to the
great lal-e of the North in the country of
the Blackfeet and Assiniboines. Their post
was the furthest one up the Missouri in
those days, and the fleet of bateaux that
the compaay's stores at St Louis put
ashore the last of their provisions and
traders goods there and took on the packs
of furs and skins which had been gathered
through the year.
''One summer. as I well remember my
grandfather often telling me sitting in
the doorway OF our old house in St. Gene
We've, the bateaux, owing to the long
high water following the June rise, did
not get to the post on the st. Jacques
until late in August. But when at last
one afternoon they did come in sight far
down the big bend below you may believe
there was giadness In that cabin. where. /
save FOR the three traders themselves, not
q white mans face was seen from day
TO day. and week to week, and month to
month after the boats went down one
GUNNER until they came up the next.
But among those forty-odd boatmen !
there was one my grandfather was, in
deed right sorry TO see. That was fore
man of one OF the bateaux. Juan Albaceta
by name Felicia had known him before |
in ST. Louis, and low-bred son Of evil he |
was with a heart as hard as his muscles |
and a mind bad enough for any viliainy. |
The men called him Spanish John and be- |
hind his back Jean le Diable, but they |
took good care to keep out Of his way all |
the same. especially when he was in IL |
Quor. for then he was the devil in very |
truth. and no mistake.
well, that night the boatmen, what |
with celebrating the end OF their long
journey-for going back with a siX-mile I
current beneath was nothing to the trip |
up-had perhaps all warmed their stOm- |
achs mere than was good. though Felicia |
still had his head clear.
but it was soon plain to see that Span
ish John had got the devil in him again, |
and something was to pay before long. |
The men began to edge away from him, |
all but young Andre F1abel. a boy Of nine
teen. with body as tnIn as a crane in
flying time, who had fallen asleep close
by. Spanish John was whispering with |
that black-souled Michael Lemastre. his
pal, who always stuck by him close as a
leech TO a dogs skin. and presently, sure |
enough. up he jumped with a yell and |
took young Andre by the slack Of the |
neck and pitched him out in the middle |
of tho floor Flabel, like all good French |
men had a quick temper, and, waking |
up like that on the floor. blind with sleep |
and liquor, he didn't stop to see who it |
was who put him there, but rushed at |
Spanish John, tearing and pounding with |
all the strength of his silly long arms |
At that all the men laughed and yelled. |
and the Spaniard was crazy in second. |
Swinging a wooden bench from the floor. |
he dashed it into Andres face. and the |
boy went over like a log, with the blood |
out of a big cut on his forehead. |
Spanish John swung OF for another blow, |
when somebody from behind gripped his |
wrist with one hand and sent the bench 1
smashing against the wall with the other /
- Let the boy alone. said my grand |
father. for he 1t was that had come be- |
tween, you've near enough killed him al |
ready. you cowardly bully.
And what in HI is that to your yells |
Spanish John, fairly foaming at the |
mouth. I'll put you there beside him if |
you don't let me go
No. you won't says Felicia, in a |
slow kind of way. You go and sit down |
and behave yourself. And I'll break your |
head If you try to touch that boy again |
''well. Spanish John had never been |
talked to like that and he didn't know !
what to make Of H. But he didn't Ike |
that steady look in Felicia's eyes, so. after |
a little, he gave in and shulked off to n !
corner. where he sat the rest of the even /
Ing, whispering with Lemastre and !
swearing he'd have the life Of Felicia |
nd Flabel both before he was done with |