I understand it," says Thoreau, "that was a valid objection urged
by Momus against the house which Minerva made, that she had not made it
movable, by which means a bad neighbourhood might be avoided; and it
may still be urged, for our houses are such unwieldy property that we
are often imprisoned rather than housed in them; and the bad
neighbourhood to be avoided is our own scurvy selves."

On their arrival, Amik at once set about getting his advances. He was
a stalwart, athletic-looking man of about thirty-five, but not the
equal of his father-in-law in character. Oo-koo-hoo now told the
Factor just where he intended to hunt, what fur he expected to get, and
how the fur runners could best find his camp. As the price of fur had
risen, the Factor told him what price he expected to pay. If, however,
the price had dropped, the Factor would not have informed the hunter
until his return next year. During the course of the conversation, the
old hunter begged the loan of a second-hand gun and some traps for the
use of his grandsons; and the Factor granted his request.

In the meantime, the women called upon the clergyman and the priest and
the nuns to wish them farewell, and incidentally to do a little more
begging. As they were not ready to go by noon, the Factor's wife
spread a cloth upon the kitchen floor, and placed upon it some food for
the party. After lunch they actually made ready to depart, and
everybody came down to the landing to see us off. As the children and
dogs scrambled aboard the canoes, the older woman remembered that she
had not been paid for her gift of moccasins, and so another delay took
place while the Factor selected a suitable present. It is always thus.
Then, at last, the canoes push off. Amid the waving of hands, the
shouting of farewells, and the shedding of a few tears even, the simple
natives of the wilderness paddled away over the silent lake en route
for their distant hunting grounds.

Thither the reader must follow, and there, amid the fastnesses of the
Great Northern Forest, he must spend the winter if he would see the
Indian at his best. There he is a beggar no longer. There, escaped
from the civilization which the white man is ever forcing upon the
red--a civilization which rarely fails to make a degenerate of him--he
proves his manhood. There, contrary to the popular idea, he will be
found to be a diligent and skilful worker and an affectionate husband
and father. There, gi