The Littlest Voyageur by Margi Preus (review)

In 1792, Jean Pierre Petit Le Rouge plans to fulfill his dream to join a crew of voyageurs, canoeing from Montreal to Lake Superior. Undeterred by the fact that he’s a red squirrel, Le Rouge slips into the pocket of a likely oarsman, confident that he will make a valuable, if undefined, contribution to the trip. He’s chosen well. Jean Gentille may not understand the squirrel’s chatter, but as something of a loner, he appreciates the company and tolerates the “singing” that drives the rest of the crew (Jeans, one and all) batty. The journey is fraught with danger, not the least of which is the desire of the crew (Jean Gentille excepted) to cook Le Rouge in a ragout, and the worst revelation comes when he realizes that the point of the enterprise is to acquire fur pelts, which are in great demand. Now the mission changes, and Le Rouge enlists the aid of his new romance, flying squirrel Monique, and other fur-bearing animals along route to put an end to this dastardly trade. Considering that the fur trade flourishes for decades to come, and that Preus attends to historical—if not zoological—accuracy, readers may wonder how she’ll arrive at an upbeat ending. That makes her wishful but logical conclusion all the more satisfying, leaving the Anishinaabeg traders with their commerce and dignity, the canoe’s crew with alternate employment, Le Rouge with a large family and fresh prospects, and readers with a boatload of information and entertainment. Softly sketched black and white illustrations, a French pronunciation guide, and historical notes are included.