Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1914-10-29
CHAPTER XIV.
Reaping the Whirlwind.

Reaping the Whirlwind.
Quite late that evening Curran
was turning over the pages Of an
old magazine. He was very restless.
Finally he hurled the book reckless
ly across the room. This was unus-
nal, for the slightest printed word Ia
Of the greatest value in the far will
derness, being commonly treated
with the greatest respect.
"I wonder what that old sky-pilot
Is doing with himself?" he said. "He
should have come in and gone to bed
long ago. Likely he's found some
Indian kid with stomachache and
is sitting up with him."
He consulted his watch-the only
one within a radius of some hun
dreds Of miles.
"E,.ven o'clock! Hanged if I'm
himW
He had gone to his room and was
beginning to undress. when he de-
cided that he had better take turn
outside and see for himself whether
priests absence.
door. Absolute silence reigned. For
utterances that would Garry far in
the still night, but heard nothing.
Then he went toward the tent of
ing no sound; but somewhere a dog
began to growl. The ample snore
Of the old man assured him that the
IL lN
scratched his head.
"Seems pretty queer" he NUT
tered, and moved off toward the
landing place, where many canoes
were pulled upon the shore and could
be clearly seen in the moonlight.
For a moment he searched among
them, but could find no sign Of the
missionary's long, travelling canoe.
Curran then uttered curse.
"He's gone! That was great
trick to play on me. l suppose that
devil Of girl told him she didn't
care to marry me, or else he told her
that he didn't approve of the mar
rage. Some day I'll get square
with him for putting in his oar that
way-the old fool! He's just gone
so that l can't be married now, and
told her that no Indian marriage
would be any good. Well, I'll get
the best of him, anyway. I'll take
her down in the spring and marry
her when we get SOUTH"
He returned to the post, where he
took a drink from his bottle of di-
luted alcohol before he sought his
bunk and tossed restlessly all night.
In the early morning came few
hours Of sleep, and he awakened
later than was his custom.
He clamored for his breakfast and
questioned old Cyprien when he
brought it to him.
when did White Beard. the Man
itou limo, go away" he asked. 81
found last night that his canoe was
gone"
81 saw this morning that it was no
longer at the landing" answered the
old fellow. "Yet he cannot have
gone for a long time, because he was
to take flour and kukush, the meat of
pig. He cannot go to the great va
ter in the north without more provi-
sions, for his are nearly gone"
"That is So" agreed Curran. II
laid the stuff for him on the floor
Of the storeroom."
Investigation showed that the pro-
visions were still there, untouched.
"Well, he isn't gone for good yet;
intends to come hack soon, that's
sure. Wonder what kind of dodge
he's up to row?"
Curran also inquired about Mash
kaugan, but found that no one had
seen him. Curran was growing more
and more nervous, vaguely scent
ing something that might be affect
ing his plans.
He judged it best not to go to the
old chiefs tent, deeming it likely
that the girl, after her conversation
mood in which it would be best to
talk with her.
He would have to get hold of Nj
chief, he learned that the old man
had taken his gun and gone out on
the barrens to try for a caribou.
During the next two days Curran
made rather large inroads on his
supply of strong drink and began to
fume because the old priest had not
returned. AS for Mashkaugan, Cur
ran heartily hoped he had broken his
neck somewhere.
perhaps he's gone and made
away with himself with all his crazy
superstitions. l hope he has; 'twould
be a good riddance of bad rubbish.
Best thing he could have DONE"
Wandering over to the landing, he
counted the canoes there-ten in all.
A peculiar mark on one of them at
tracted his attention. This canoe had
been there for number of days, he
felt sure, and looked like the 9th
ers, SO that he had hitherto paid no
special attention to it.
Curran turned it over. There was
no doubt. 1t was Mashkaugan's.
The agent looked about him. An
Indian squaw was coming down to
the waterside, bearing a kettle she
wanted to fill.
"How longs this canoe been
here 2" he asked.
The squaw looked at him in some
surprise. To her these white men
were beyond comprehension. The
canoe had been there four days in
all. Any one who had seen it once
should have been able to recognize
it at the merest glance. Here was a