Pierre.
Carrigan pulled himself a little higher on his pillow and with a
new interest scanned the cabin. He had never heard of Boulain
women. Yet here was the proof of their existence and of the
greatness that ran in the red blood of their veins. The history of
the great northland, hidden in the dust-dry tomes and guarded
documents of the great company, had always been of absorbing
interest to him. He wondered why it was that the outside world
knew so little about it and believed so little of what it heard. A
long time ago he had penned an article telling briefly the story
of this half of a great continent in which for two hundred years
romance and tragedy and strife for mastery had gone on in a way to
thrill the hearts of men. He had told of huge forts with thirty-
foot stone bastions, of fierce wars, of great warships that had
fired their broadsides in battle in the ice-filled waters of
Hudson's Bay. He had described the coming into this northern world
of thousands and tens of thousands of the bravest and best-blooded
men of England and France, and how these thousands had continued
to come, bringing with them the names of kings, of princes, and of
great lords, until out of the savagery of the north rose an
aristocracy of race built up of the strongest men of the earth.
Pages:
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89