Free Belle of Batoche by Jacqueline Guest Page B

cuddled up next to her mother, but whether it was from cold or worry, she found she couldn’t sleep.
    Toward dawn, Samuel began to cough.
    Belle sat up, stiff with fear. “Mama, do you have anything in your medicine bag to ease Samuel’s coughing?” she asked. Her mother followed Belle’s gaze to the ceiling. If the soldiers heard …
    Her mother thought for a moment. “I have just the thing,” she said. “Quick, bring me my bag.”
    Belle did as she was told. “Look for a small vial of honey and lemon mixture.”
    Belle rummaged in the medicine pouch, then with a grin, pulled out the slim bottle. “I know what to do with this.”
    Mixing a dollop into a cup with water, she held it to Samuel’s parched lips. Even in his delirious state, he drank the sweet soothing liquid greedily.
    Belle gently pushed his damp hair off the small boy’s forehead, then sighed. His breathing had eased and he had stopped coughing for the moment.
    â€œI’m too hot,” Sarah whispered. She’d been watching Belle tend to her brother. “Why don’t you take the blanket and try to get some sleep? I’ll watch Samuel.” She held the blanket out to Belle.
    Belle was sure Sarah wasn’t too hot at all, as the root cellar was very chilly. Exhaustion washed over her in a dark wave. Nodding, she took the blanket. “Thanks.”
    Later, Belle became aware of Sarah huddled beside her. “You’re keeping me awake with your shivering,” she whispered and wrapped the blanket around them both. In minutes, they were fast asleep.
    They were awoken the next morning by the sounds of men and horses moving about. Soon the noises stopped and Belle edged the door open. Climbing carefully up to the side of the embankment, she peeked over the top. The soldiers had broken camp and were gone. Belle scrambled back to the cellar to tell the others. They spent the day talking and telling stories. Belle’s mother made the girls laugh with her tales of how things were done in the old days. As the noise of the battle continued, Belle and Sarah sang songs to keep their spirits up.
    â€œYou have a nice voice,” Belle said as Sarah finished singing an old lullaby her grandmother had taught her.
    â€œReally?” Sarah said, surprised. “My mother always complained I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.”
    â€œIs that why you never joined the choir?” Belle asked.
    Sarah looked uncomfortable, then she giggled. “Actually, my mother said I shouldn’t mix with riff raff.”
    Belle looked at her, then started gigglingtoo. “Well, if you ever find this Riff Raff fellow, let me know because I’m sure I don’t want to mix with him either!”
    That night, Belle stole back out to her house for more supplies. It was a disappointing trip as soldiers had broken in and taken nearly all the remaining food, leaving only some stale bannock and a couple of pieces of salt pork.
    When she returned to the cellar, Belle was surprised to see her mother and Sarah hovering over Samuel. Belle feared the worst.
    â€œHis fever is very high,” her mother said, looking up. The worry in her face was plain. “We need to lower his temperature.”
    The three of them took turns through the night sponging Samuel down. As Belle fell into a fitful doze, she heard her mother whispering a prayer for all of them to live through this terrible time.
    Belle was the last to take her turn and was still awake when Tuesday morning arrived. Samuel was coughing again, but she thought it sounded better than the day before.
    As she set out the last of the bannock and jam she wondered where she could go for more food if the battle didn’t end soon.
    â€œWill those terrible guns never stop!” Sarah grumbled, unwrapping herself from the blanket. “I can’t stand it anymore.”
    Belle understood how Sarah felt. The cannon fire had started early