Chief Louis nodded. “Oui! maybe; and you haf’ ze dream corp’ral.”
Corporal Bracknell stopped his perambulation of the hut, and stared at his companion.
“Now how the dickens do you know that, Louis?”
“I have seen it in your eyes. You speak of Rolf Gargrave, an’ twice, only twice you hav’ speak of Gargrave’s daughter, but there were dreams in ze eyes then, and a soft note in ze voice, and I know dat she is what you call ze home-woman. Oui! I know dat is so.”
The corporal’s face flushed, and he did not deny it. For one moment as he stood there, he had a vision of Joy Gargrave, young and beautiful and a fit mate for any man, and in that moment there were dreams in his eyes. Three seconds later realities asserted themselves, and the soft light died from his eyes. He gave a little bitter laugh, and without speaking resumed his perambulations. Chief Louis watched him for a moment then he said tentatively, “There be difficulties ahead, corp’ral.”
“Yes,” nodded Bracknell, “grave difficulties! What would you do, Louis, if you wanted a maid to wife?”
“I should offer a large price—blankets, guns, tobac!”
Roger Bracknell laughed at the notion of offering a large price for Joy Gargrave, and then mooted the real difficulty.
“But if it was not a matter of price, Louis, rather of another man! What then?”
“Then I would him fight. Always maidens are caught with strength. They love a man. Dat is ze law of life and of mating. Ze strong wolf in ze pack he hav’ ze pick an’ ze strong bull-moose he hav’ ze herd; an’ ze strong man he take ze maid. I have looked on ze world and so is it! Yes! Love like all dings else is ze spoil of ze strong!”