e outside of the coat,
tanned as soft and white as chamois, was decorated with designs
painted in colours. Attached to it was a hood of wolfskin.

Accompanying the coat was a pair of long, close-fitting buckskin
leggings, and a pair of buckskin moccasins, both decorated, and the
whole comprising the typical winter suit of a Nascaupee hunter.

Manikawan's attentions were extremely irritating to Bob, but he could
not well avoid them, and to have declined to accept the gift which she
had made especially for him in anticipation of his coming, would have
caused her keen disappointment. So he accepted them and donned them,
to her evident delight.

"Shad," said Bob, on the Sunday evening after their arrival "I has t'
start back in th' mornin', an' you better be goin' with me."

"No," insisted Shad, "I'll stick to the Indians for a while."

The following morning Bob bade them adieu.

"Take care of yourself, old man," said Shad. "I'll see you in a month
or so."

"I hopes so, Shad, an' you take care o' yourself, now. I'm fearin' t'
leave you, Shad."

"Oh, I know how to look out for myself," declared Shad. "Don't worry
about me."

Turning to Manikawan, who stood mutely waiting for the word of
farewell that she hoped Bob would bestow upon her, he said, in the
Indian tongue:

"White Brother of the Snow must go to his hunting grounds. He is
leaving behind him his friend. Will Manikawan minister to his friend
as she would to him? Will she see that no harm comes to him?"

"Manikawan will do as White Brother of the Snow directs," she
answered. "She will minister to his friend's needs. She will make for
his friend the nabwe. His friend will not be hungry. Manikawan will
care for him until White Brother of the Snow is weary of hunting and
comes again to Sishetakushin's lodge. She will do this because he is
the friend of White Brother of the Snow."

Then Bob turned into the white, frigid waste to the southward, and
Shad was alone with the Indians.

XVII

CHRISTMAS AT THE RIVER TILT

Christmas fell on Thursday that year, and it had been arranged that
the trappers, by turning back on their trails the preceding Saturday
instead of waiting as was their custom until Monday, and by slighting
some of the less important sections of the trails on their return
trip, should gather at the river tilt on Wednesday evening, in order
to celebrate the holiday with a feast.

It was late on Christmas eve when Ungava Bob, returning f