o ornament the same. Soon his quills
dwindled away till at last they disappeared; yet his wants were not
fully supplied--would the pale-face chief advance him some goods on
credit?

Oh yes--he seemed a good and trustworthy brave--the pale-face chief had
no objection to do that!

Accordingly I opened a ledger and inserted the man's name. It was
almost Welsh-like in difficulty of pronunciation, but, unlike a
Welshman, I spelt it as pronounced, and set down in order the additional
goods he required. When Lumley thought he had given him enough on
credit, he firmly closed the account, gave the man a small gratuity of
tobacco, powder and shot, etcetera, and bade another chief come forward.

It was slow but interesting work, for, as the Indians grew familiar with
the place and our ways, those of them who were loquacious, or possessed
of humour, began to chat and comment on the goods, and on the white
man's doings in a way that was very diverting.

After the chief men had traded their furs, the rank and file of the band
came on, and, as is the case with all rank and file, there were some
indifferent, and a few bad characters among them. It was now that I
observed and admired the tact, combined with firmness, of Lumley. He
spoke to these Indians with exactly the same respect and suavity that
had characterised him when trading with the chiefs. When he saw any one
become puzzled or undecided, he suggested or quietly advised. If a
man's eye appeared to twinkle he cut a mild joke with him. If one
became too familiar, or seemed disposed to be insolent he took no
notice, but turned aside and busied himself in arranging the goods.

At last, however, an incident occurred which called for different
treatment. There was among the Indians a long-legged, wiry fellow who
had been named Attick, or Reindeer, because he was a celebrated runner.
Those who disliked him--and they were numerous--said he was good at
running away from his foes. However that might be, he was undoubtedly
dexterous in the use of his fingers--and it was through this propensity
that we were first introduced to him. It happened thus:

Lumley, whose powers of observation often surprised me, had noticed that
Attick looked often and with longing eyes at a very small roll of
tobacco which belonged to one of his comrades, and lay on the counter
temptingly near at hand. Slowly, and, as it were, inadvertently, he
advanced his hand until it touched the tobacco, t