Présentation de l'éditeur Born in 1805 on the Lewis and Clark expedition, Jean-Baptiste Charbonneau is the son of Sacagawea and Toussaint Charbonneau. He is raised both as William Clark’s ward in St. Louis and by his parents among the villages of the Mandan tribe on the far northern reaches of the Missouri river. In 1823 eighteen-year-old Baptiste is invited to cross the Atlantic with the young Duke Paul of Württemberg, whom he meets on the frontier. During their travels throughout Europe, Paul introduces Baptiste to a world he never imagined, and Baptiste ultimately faces a choice: whether to stay in Europe or return to the wilds of North America. As we follow this young man on his intriguing sojourn, this remarkable novelresonates with the richness of three distinct cultures, languages, and customs. Extrait OneFebruary 11, 1805On the banks of the Missouri, 1,200 milesupriver from St. LouisAll afternoon her cries could be heard throughout the smallwooden enclosure they called Fort Mandan, winter quarters forthe expedition across the river from one of the tribe's villages. Tworows of huts faced each other at an oblique angle within the stockade,and from one of these the guttural shrieks emerged with a grim regularity.In and around the other huts the men kept to their business—skinning game, cutting wood, cleaning guns—but each flinchedinwardly when the next cry reached his ears."It's her first," René Jesseaume said as he ground an ax blade on awhetstone inside his hut. "She can't be more than fifteen; it's no wondershe has been at it for so long.""All you can do is wait," said the young soldier across from him,shaking his head. He continued to dress the elk meat they had huntedtwo days before."Maybe," Jesseaume said. He put down the ax, oiled the stone, andlet himself out into the biting cold.He crossed the central space enclosed by the palisade. On the riverside the American flag snapped fiercely on its pole above the roughhewngatehouse, its edges already frayed. Hunched against the bittercold wind, he approached the door to the captains' quarters oppositehis hut. As he prepared to knock, the door opened and Charbonneau,the squaw's husband, emerged in a daze. His eyes were rheumy, hislook distracted; he passed Jesseaume without appearing to see him.Jesseaume knocked lightly on the half-open door and let himself in tothe close confines of the room.Captain Lewis looked up from where he sat by a low pallet coveredwith a buffalo robe. His features were worn. The young woman laybeneath a woven blanket, her face turned away from the candle atLewis's side. Lewis began to say something but the woman cried outsuddenly, a long howl that paralyzed both men before it tapered off ina whimper. Jesseaume approached and knelt by Lewis's side."Captain, my wife' s tribe has a potion in such cases where the laboris long and difficult." Lewis nodded for him to continue. "They crushthe tail of a rattler, mix it with water, and have the woman drink it. Ihave never seen it fail."At length Lewis said, "I have given her as much tincture of laudanumas I dare. I don't suppose the Mandan remedy you propose cankeep nature from taking its course."He rose and walked to the other side of the hut, its interior dankwith the smell of sweat, blood, and wood smoke. On one wall a profusionof pelts, tails, snakeskins, and bones hung on the rough timber.He produced a knife from his pocket and snipped the rattles from thetip of a snakeskin. Then, setting his cup on an adjacent plank, he ladledout a quarter measure of water and returned to where Jesseaumecrouched beside the woman."Will this serve?""Very well, Captain. I thank you."Jesseaume neatly snapped two of the rattles from the tail, droppedthem into the water, and broke them into tiny pieces, using his thumbnailas a mortar to the tin cup's pestle. Kneeling low to the pallet, heraised the young woman's sweat-drenched head in one hand and whisperedin her ear in Mandan, "New Mother, the power of the
