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    A Romany of the Snows, vol. 2 Being a Continuation of the Personal Histories of "Pierre and His People" and the Last Existing Records of Pretty Pierre
    A Romany of the Snows, vol. 2 Being a Continuation of the Personal Histories of "Pierre and His People" and the Last Existing Records of Pretty Pierre
    A Romany of the Snows, vol. 2 Being a Continuation of the Personal Histories of "Pierre and His People" and the Last Existing Records of Pretty Pierre
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    A Romany of the Snows, vol. 2 Being a Continuation of the Personal Histories of "Pierre and His People" and the Last Existing Records of Pretty Pierre

    By Gilbert Parker

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    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 25, 2013
    A Romany of the Snows, vol. 2 Being a Continuation of the Personal Histories of "Pierre and His People" and the Last Existing Records of Pretty Pierre
    Author

    Gilbert Parker

    Gilbert Parker (1862–1932), also credited as Sir Horatio Gilbert George Parker, 1st Baronet, was a Canadian novelist and British politician. His initial career was in education, working in various schools as a teacher and lecturer. He then traveled abroad to Australia where he became an editor at the Sydney Morning Herald. He expanded his writing to include long-form works such as romance fiction. Some of his most notable titles include Pierre and his People (1892), The Seats of the Mighty and The Battle of the Strong.

    Read more from Gilbert Parker

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      Book preview

      A Romany of the Snows, vol. 2 Being a Continuation of the Personal Histories of "Pierre and His People" and the Last Existing Records of Pretty Pierre - Gilbert Parker

      The Project Gutenberg EBook Romany Of The Snows, v2, by Gilbert Parker #9 in our series by Gilbert Parker Contents: Malachi The Lake Of The Great Slave The Red Patrol The Going Of The White Swan At Bamber's Boom

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      **Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**

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      Title: Romany of the Snows, Continuation of Pierre and His People, v2

      Author: Gilbert Parker

      Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6181] [Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on August 31, 2002]

      Edition: 10

      Language: English

      *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROMANY OF THE SNOWS, V2, BY PARKER ***

      This eBook was produced by David Widger

      [NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an entire meal of them. D.W.]

      A ROMANY OF THE SNOWS

      BEING A CONTINUATION OF THE PERSONAL HISTORIES OF PIERRE AND HIS PEOPLE AND THE LAST EXISTING RECORDS OF PRETTY PIERRE

      By Gilbert Parker

      Volume 2.

      MALACHI THE LAKE OF THE GREAT SLAVE THE RED PATROL THE GOING OF THE WHITE SWAN AT BAMBER'S BOOM

      MALACHI

      He'll swing just the same to-morrow. Exit Malachi! said Freddy

      Tarlton gravely.

      The door suddenly opened on the group of gossips, and a man stepped inside and took the only vacant seat near the fire. He glanced at none, but stretched out his hands to the heat, looking at the coals with drooping introspective eyes.

      Exit Malachi, he said presently in a soft ironical voice, but did not look up.

      By the holy poker, Pierre, where did you spring from? asked Tarlton genially.

      The wind bloweth where it listeth, and— Pierre responded, with a little turn of his fingers.

      And the wind doesn't tell where it's been, but that's no reason Pierre shouldn't, urged the other.

      Pierre shrugged his shoulders, but made no answer. He was a tough, said a voice from the crowd. To-morrow he'll get the breakfast he's paid for. Pierre turned and looked at the speaker with a cold inquisitive stare. Mon Dieu! he said presently, "here's this Gohawk playing preacher. What do you know of Malachi, Gohawk? What do any of you know about Malachi? A little of this, a little of that, a drink here, a game of euchre there, a ride after cattle, a hunt behind Guidon Hill!—But what is that? You have heard the cry of the eagle, you have seen him carry off a lamb, you have had a pot-shot at him, but what do you know of the eagle's nest? Mais non.

      The lamb is one thing, the nest is another. You don't know the eagle till you've been there. And you, Gohawk, would not understand, if you saw the nest. Such cancan!

      Shut your mouth! broke out Gohawk. D'ye think I'm going to stand your—

      Freddy Tarlton laid a hand on his arm. Keep quiet, Gohawk. What good will it do? Then he said, Tell us about the nest, Pierre; they're hanging him for the lamb in the morning.

      Who spoke for him at the trial? Pierre asked.

      I did, said Tarlton. I spoke as well as I could, but the game was dead against him from the start. The sheriff was popular, and young; young—that was the thing; handsome too, and the women, of course! It was sure from the start; besides, Malachi would say nothing—didn't seem to care.

      No, not to care, mused Pierre. "What did you say for him to the jury

      —I mean the devil of a thing to make them sit up and think, 'Poor

      Malachi!'—like that."

      Best speech y'ever heard, Gohawk interjected; "just emptied the words out, split 'em like peas, by gol! till he got to one place right before the end. Then he pulled up sudden, and it got so quiet you could 'a heard a pin drop. 'Gen'lemen of the jury,' says Freddy Tarlton here— gen'lemen, by gol! all that lot—Lagan and the rest! 'Gen'lemen of the jury,' he says, 'be you danged well sure that you're at one with God A'mighty in this; that you've got at the core of justice here; that you've got evidence to satisfy Him who you've all got to satisfy some day, or git out. Not evidence as to shootin', but evidence as to what that shootin' meant, an' whether it was meant to kill, an' what for. The case is like this, gen'lemen of the jury,' says Freddy Tarlton here. 'Two men are in a street alone. There's a shot, out comes everybody, and sees Fargo the sheriff laid along the ground, his mouth in the dust, and a full-up gun in his fingers. Not forty feet away stands Malachi with a gun smokin' in his fist. It seems to be the opinion that it was cussedness—just cussedness—that made Malachi turn the sheriff's boots to the sun. For Malachi was quarrelsome. I'll give you a quarter on that. And the sheriff was mettlesome, used to have high spirits, like as if he's lift himself over the fence with his bootstraps. So when Malachi come and saw the sheriff steppin' round in his paten' leathers, it give him the needle, and he got a bead on him—and away went Sheriff Fargo— right away! That seems to be the sense of the public.' And he stops again, soft and quick, and looks the twelve in the eyes at once. 'But,' says Freddy

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