Lagroin was everywhere, drilling, commanding, browbeating his
recruits one minute, and praising them the next. Lajeunesse, Garotte, and
Muroc were invaluable, each after his kind. Duclosse the mealman was
sutler.
The young Seigneur and his companions were not challenged, and they
passed on up to the Rock of Red Pigeons. Looking down, they had a perfect
view of the encampment. The tents had come from lumber-camps, from
river-driving gangs, and from private stores; there was some regular
uniform, flags were flying everywhere, many fires were burning, the voice
of Lagroin in command came up the valley loudly, and Valmond watched the
drill and a march past. The fires lit up the sides of the valley and
glorified the mountains beyond. In this inspiring air it was impossible
to feel an accent of disaster or to hear the stealthy footfall of ruin.
The three journeyed down into the valley, then up onto the plateau, where
they were challenged, allowed to pass, and came to where Valmond sat upon
his horse. At sight of them, with a suspicion of the truth, he ordered
Lagroin to march the men down the long plateau. They made a good figure
filing past the three visitors, as the young Seigneur admitted.
Pages:
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167