Outcasts of River Falls (27 page)

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Authors: Jacqueline Guest

Tags: #community, #juvenile fiction, #Metis and Aboriginal interest, #self-esteem and independence, #prejudice, #racism, #mystery, #different cultures and traditions, #Canadian 20th century history, #girls and women

BOOK: Outcasts of River Falls
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Blake scoffed. “That’s a lot of talk, except I don’t see no proof.”

“Check his pockets, Sergeant. Since it was sent this morning, I’m sure there must be an official document, signed by the station master, showing he shipped one large trunk of sufficient size to hold the entire payroll, to Toronto. His name is probably written on it.”

The crowd now waited, curious.

Sergeant Prentiss turned to his constable. “Let’s settle this right now, Cyrus.”

“Dang it, Sergeant, you ain’t going to listen to that, that...”

“That
young lady,
Cyrus? Yes I am. Empty your pockets. That’s an order.”

Cursing, Constable Blake turned the pockets on his breeches inside out showing they were empty.

Kathryn watched his expression and couldn’t decide whether it was self-righteousness or arrogance; either way, he was mighty sure of himself. Then as he fumbled in his jacket, this sureness evaporated and his face went a startling shade of puce. Slowly, he withdrew a neatly folded slip of paper.

He stared down at it, as though it was a rattlesnake nestled in his palm.

Sergeant Prentiss took the paper and read it. “It’s as Kathryn said. This is a way bill for the shipping of a trunk to Toronto, Ontario, and your name is listed as the shipper, Cyrus. Care to explain?”

Before the constable could say anything, there was a sudden roar from the direction of the alley as a mountain of a man bellowed and lumbered toward the barracks.

“Swindler! Liar!
Cochon!”
The crowd parted as Claude Remy bulled his way through. “You stole dat money from da bank and now you tink you can steal my share from me! It was you who stabbed dat guard, den you kept my knife so we could blame da Highwayman.” He eyed Gabriel Ducharme. “I do not tink dat trick she be working today.” Lunging toward Blake, he made a grab for the terrified constable. “I tear off your head and spit in da hole...”

Kathryn took an involuntary step backward, although whether it was from fright or to allow Claude clear access to his target, she couldn’t say.

Sergeant Prentiss suddenly held his pistol. “No one’s doing anything until I have a chance to straighten this mess out. What in the Sam Hill is going on here?”

Claude froze. “I did dis for you, Belle,
ma chère.”
He looked at Belle, longing in his eyes. “I thought if Gabriel, he was out of da way, your heart would soften toward me, dat’s why I told Blake dat Gabe was in Medicine Hat. It was to be a secret, but da pig, he blackmailed me into helping him wid da robbery. If I didn’t, he would tell you how he knew where Gabriel was and you would hate me. The money, it give us a new start together, far from dis town. I wouldn’t have to spend my life on da trap line and we could be married.”

Kathryn watched her aunt recoil. “Claude, you betrayed Gabriel..., your people...” She shook her head sadly, “And me...for nothing. It would never have happened. We would never have married. I am so sorry.”

She looked toward Gabriel and Kathryn could practically feel the love her aunt shared with this stranger, her Highwayman. It was better than any theatrical production she had ever seen. It was romantic, mysterious, tragic and uplifting all at the same time. At moments like this, Kathryn wished she were a playwright like Shakespeare perhaps, so that she could pen this immortal love story for future generations to read and weep over.

Her attention was abruptly pulled back to the drama unfolding in front of her when Sergeant Prentiss raised his pistol and pointed it at Blake. “You’re under arrest Cyrus, and so is this friend of yours.” He motioned both men into the detachment. “Gabe, I’ll deal with you later. I need more answers and there’s the matter of some missing goods you forgot to pay for.”

Kathryn could hear Claude cursing in every language he knew as he was hustled back to the cells.

In a heartbeat, Gabriel was on the boardwalk and had taken Belle into his arms. Kathryn watched as enthralled as when reading a particularly wonderful passage in one of her books. It was
très romantique!

Belle wrapped her arms around her new husband; then, to the cheers of the crowd, the couple kissed. Everyone began talking and exclaiming over the extraordinary events of the morning.

JP shook his head. “I must admit, I didn’t see that one coming. I knew Gabe was back and was our Highwayman, but I sure couldn’t say anything. Kokum and Belle would both have killed me. It was the best kept secret in River Falls.”

“Now they know you can keep a secret.” She said, then added with a smile, “at least if it involves bodily harm to your person, my liege.”

Reaching up, he smoothed back the feather on his hat with two fingers. “I do have a question. How did you know Claude would confess to the robbery?”

Kathryn folded her arms. “Because I’m such an astute judge of character.” Then she giggled. “And after dealing
with Claude, I knew he would explode with the right en
couragement. I had the feeling that he and Constable Dung had an unknown history and that his hatred had been festering for some time.”

“I could have told you Claude Remy was dangerous. Our trapper has fists like ham hocks and I’ve seen him use them, from a safe distance mind you,” JP added.

“Plus, despite appearances, Claude is not a stupid man. He would know that with Blake holding his knife, he would always be under the man’s control and was probably expecting his partner to cheat him.” Kathryn grew pensive. “And you know what? I’m sure the good constable would indeed have swindled Claude out of his share. What could
a Métis do if a North West Mounted Police constable ac
cused him of a crime? Blake may even have implicated him with the Highwayman. After all, he had that blasted knife – kind of two birds with one stone. It makes sense. I simply sped up the double-cross.”

“I think you’re right,” JP agreed as he and Kathryn strolled across the street away from the crowd. “You’ve been through a lot since joining our little kingdom – discovering you were
Métis, living as a member of the Road Allowance People,
unmasking a Canadian Robin Hood, bringing a murderer to justice and – let’s not forget – wearing dungarees!”

Kathryn beamed into his wonderful face. “As I’ve said before – some rewards are worth the struggle.”

“And speaking of rewards, tell me, Kathryn the Great, will you go back to your home with the reward money the bank has offered?” he asked tentatively.

This was one detail that had slipped her mind. Now she felt a little lightheaded as she realized what it meant. She had five thousand dollars! She had the means to go back to Toronto, pay for law school and live comfortably ever after. She could leave River Falls and these Outcasts far behind.

“I will go to law school in the east...” She saw his face fill with sadness. “However,” she hurried on, “my home... and my heart, are here now JP. I will always come back to River Falls.”

Kathryn saw the relief sweep through him and laughed. “Someone must stand up for these people’s rights and who better than a Métis lady lawyer.”

It had been an eventful time. She remembered when she’d first seen the town and had decided it was more Hopeless than Hopeful, but now, with everyone talking
and laughing, Road Allowance People with white, she de
cided Hopeful was a good name after all. Her aunt had said they must plant the seeds and wait for the harvest. Watching all these happy folks, Kathryn was hoping for a bumper crop.

It was a start.

She would always love her stories of knights and damsels in distress but she now knew life was not a fairy tale; it was hard work and took a special kind of courage to stand up and do the right thing. She thought of Mark and his threat to run the Road Allowance People off so he could set up his hog operation. If she were going to help these people, no,
her
people, she would need that special courage and Kathryn knew she had it. Clara Brett Martin would be very proud of her, and she realized, so would her parents.

However, she wasn’t about to close the covers on her fairytale books entirely. When she was with her Prairie Puss-in-Boots, she would always share that rare realm of magic that had brought them together. She smiled impishly. “As a reward for finding the true villainous Black Knights of this tale, will you grant me a boon, sire?”

“For the fairest maiden in all the land, anything.” JP took off his hat and with a grand flourish, bowed deeply, ready to jump into the game once more.

“Will you please, please tell me what
JP
stands for?”

He hesitated, balking. “Oh, fair lady, me thinkest that thou knoweth how I feel about that one secret.” Then his face softened in surrender. Reaching out, he took her hands in his, drawing her to him.

He was so close; Kathryn could feel the heat of his body. Her heart sped up and she felt a distinct tingling sensation. Leaning in, he whispered into her ear.

Kathryn’s eyes went wide, then, as naturally as if she’d done it a thousand times, her lips brushed his. “Impossible!”

Author’s Note

This story really starts when Métis combatants were de
feated by the Canadian government in a four-day battle in May of 1885 at Batoche, Saskatchewan. This just fight­ – the Métis were defending their rights, land and culture – ­is known as the North West Resistance and was led by Louis Riel and Gabriel Dumont. You can read more about it (and about Aunt Belle’s youth) in my book,
Belle of Batoche.

After this pivotal event in history, the Métis were considered traitors and renegades, and the era of the great dispersal began. Some, whose skin was light-coloured, passed as white, burying their ancestry in order to survive. Others, whose First Nations roots were obvious, went back to the trap lines of the north.

Here in Western Canada, prejudice against non-whites
meant they couldn’t live in towns and as they were not Sta
tus Indian, they were not allowed to live on reserves. Many Métis had no choice but to live on unused government land adjacent to the roadways and became known as the Road Allowance People. These stalwart souls strove to preserve their culture and very existence against harsh odds and slim chances, trying to survive while maintaining the positive Métis spirit of family and community. They had had their fight and lost; so, they accepted this treatment, however unfair it was, until 1945, when conditions improved and the Métis were no longer on the fringes of society.

The Métis nation is a distinct ethnicity and has been in existence since the beginning of the fur trade, when white European trappers from French Canada, England, Ireland and Scotland took First Nation’s wives. The children of these unions were the first Métis in Canada. 

The Métis do not live on reserves, although there are eight Settlements in Alberta­ – communities in which some families have chosen to make their homes. The Métis have their own language, called Michif, which consists of French nouns and Cree verbs; and, the Métis people had their own flag before Canada did – ­more than a hundred fifty years before. The Métis Infinity, or Circle of Eight, flag shows a white infinity sign against either a red or blue background. It too has its roots in the fur trade, as it was given to the Métis by Alexander MacDonnell, a North West Company agent.

Today, the Métis people are a thriving and vital part of Canadian society, contributing in all professions and walks of life, but you would be hard pressed to pick one out of a crowd.  You may be sitting next to a Métis person right now!

Jacqueline Guest

Bragg Creek, Alberta, 2011

www.jacquelineguest.com

Acknowledgements

The author would like to thank the host of people who contributed their expertise, memories and advice which were so valuable in the writing of this book.

The following is a partial list of these helpful souls: Nik
Burton, Coteau Books; Laura Peetoom, Paperglyphs Ed
itorial; Darren Prefontaine, Gabriel Dumont Institute; Lorain Lounsberry, Glenbow Museum; Wendy Kraushaar, RCMP Historical Collections Unit, Depot Division; Tri River Métis Elders and Youth Group; The Tourond Family; Margaret Tourond Townson; Marguerite Harrison; Saskatchewan Archives Board.

Verifying oral history is extremely difficult, but by combining fact with fiction, I tried to make this book both historically correct, as well as, an entertaining read for young people.

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