Jacqueline Guest
Copyright © 2004 Jacqueline Guest
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.
National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication Data:
Guest, Jacqueline
Belle of Batoche / Jacqueline Guest.
(Orca young readers)
Electronic Monograph
Issued also in print format.
ISBN
9781551434544
(pdf)
--
ISBN
9781554695751
(epub)
1. Batoche (Sask.), Battle of, 1885--Juvenile fiction. I. Title. II. Series.
PS8563.U365B44 2004Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â jC813'.54Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â C2004-905172-5
Library of Congress Control Number
: 2004112452
Summary
: Belle must put aside her struggle to become the church bell ringer when those she loves are threatened during the battle of Batoche, part of the Riel Rebellion.
Free teachers' guide available.
Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Department of Canadian Heritage's Book Publishing Industry Development Program (BPIDP), the Canada Council for the Arts, and the British Columbia Arts Council.
Cover design and typesetting by Lynn O'Rourke
Cover & interior illustrations by June Lawrason
In Canada:
Orca Book Publishers
PO Box 5626, Station B
Victoria, BC Canada
V8R 6S4
In the United States:
Orca Book Publishers
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98240-0468
07 06 05 04 ⢠6 5 4 3 2 1
For the grade three and four
Time Twisters
of Louis Riel Elementary School, Calgary:
students who really did make history come alive!
And for their extraordinary teachers,
Sandy Langford, Tim Shoults and Jane Spratt
.
A real class act!
Spring 2004.
I would like to acknowledge the Canada Council for the Arts and the Alberta Foundation for the Arts for their support while I was writing this book.
3 Beautiful Bells and Stinky Smells
4 Perfect Stitches and Hidden Ditches
8 Setting a Trap to Catch the Truth
15 Battle's End and a Friendship Begun
Belle emerged from the warm blackness of the old chicken coop into the blinding April sunshine.
“Belle Tourond, where are you, mafille?”
Belle had stopped to watch an early robin busily building a nest in a poplar tree and now she was late again. Spring was very late coming this year, and Belle felt sorry for the birds trying to make nests in the leafless trees.
Sighing, she blew a puff of air up into her straight black hair and watched as a feather came loose, drifting down onto the frosty early morning ground. Time had a
way of slipping away from Belle; at least that's what her mama always said.
Grown-ups had a different idea of how time should be spent, Belle thought. Instead of stopping to enjoy the first crocus of the year or to watch a fish jump in the river, adults were always rushing here and there with chores.
Today, Belle had spent a short time, she was sure it had been only a very short time, spying on a sweet little robin building a nest. What harm could there be in that?
She set the basket of eggs she'd been gathering onto a fence post where it teetered while she wiped her grimy hands on the apron of her long dress. “Coming Mama!” she called, grabbing the basket just in time.
Belle lived in the small town of Batoche in the area of the North West Territories called Saskatchewan. The town was on the Carlton Trail, the main trade route between Fort Garry and Fort Edmonton.
She glanced up at the wide-open prairie sky. It was like looking into a vast blue ocean, or at least what she imagined an ocean
would look like. She had never seen anything bigger than the South Saskatchewan River, which she thought was very impressive, especially during spring run off. Batoche was built on the banks of the South Saskatchewan and boasted a real ferryboat that took people and freight from bank to bank.
“It took me a little longer than usual today, Mama. I had to wrestle a couple of those hens before they'd give up their darned old eggs!” Belle said as she hustled into the back porch.
“Oui, I think it took a little longer because you stopped to watch a tree growing leaves! I swear your head is so far in the clouds that one day you'll be struck by lightning! You're eleven now, Belle, and should be more responsible.” Her mother shook her head.
“Actually, it was a bird in the tree,” Belle mumbled, looking down at her basket of eggs. “I'll wash these right away.” She could feel her mother staring as she busied herself gently scrubbing the dirty eggs. This was the third time this week her mother had
caught her daydreaming. If she didn't concentrate on her chores, she was going to get into big trouble. She wished she could stop, but the warm sun and the chirping birds always put her in a mind to sing.
She picked up an egg and inspected it. She loved to sing and she was good at it. A happy little tune she'd heard at school bubbled up through her brain. She began humming cheerfully as she worked.
One day she would go to the big opera houses in Montreal and perform for thousands of people, who would clap and stamp their feet, yelling for more! She could see it all now. There would be loud cheering and â¦
Crack
! The egg she was washing broke and a splat of gooey yellow yolk slid into the sink.
“Non, non, non, child!” her mother scolded. “What am I going to do with you? I need every one of those eggs. Monsieurs Louis Riel and Gabrielle Dumont are coming tonight and they will want to eat before the meeting.”
“Another meeting! Oh Mama, that means the men will be up talking until very late.”
Belle would get little sleep with all the noisy discussions about the troubles. The troubles, her brother Patrice said, had to do with the Canadian government trying to take their land away. The Metis people could not allow that.
Belle and her family were Metisâa blend of European and First Nations' people. Her great-grandfather, a white man, had come to this country from France and married her great-grandmother, a Cree lady. Their children were the first Metis in their family. Belle thought she was very Canadian because the Metis had begun here in Canada.
Nearly all the people of Batoche were Metis and supported Monsieur Riel. In 1870, he'd won a battle with the Canadian government at the Red River settlement. Everyone was hoping he could do it again now in 1885 here in Batoche. Belle's father and brother, who made their living hauling freight with the big, two-wheeled wooden Red River carts, were sure Monsieur Riel would make the Canadian government listen to the Metis people.
“Do I have to candle them?” Belle asked, looking at the row of gleaming white eggs on the counter. She disliked that job as she often missed the telltale dark spot on the inside of the egg when she held it up to the candle's light.
“Non, I have an errand for you. I want you to take this note to Father Moulin.” Her mother handed Belle a slip of paper. “And try not to be too long.”
Belle grinned. “Is this about who will be chosen as the new bell ringer at the church?” she asked, dancing from one foot to the other.
“Oui, Father Moulin will appoint the bell ringer on Sunday. I have heard that only one young person has asked for the job and I want to assure him that you are still very interested.” She smiled at her daughter. “Am I wrong, ma petite fille?” Her mother tucked an errant strand of hair behind Belle's ear.
“Oh no, Mama!” Belle shook her head, releasing the strand of hair to fly free once more. “I still want to be the one to make Marie-Antoinette sing!” She stuffed the
note into her apron pocket and raced out the door.
Bishop Grandin had presented their new church, St. Antoine de Padoue, with the bell last year when construction had finished. It had cost twenty-five dollars and was made of real silver! The bell had been christened Marie-Antoinette. She had a beautiful voice. Early every Sunday morning, she could be heard calling everyone to mass. To be the bell ringer would be a very important job, so important the person appointed was to have their name and picture printed in the paper!