ted with all the
wonders of battle and the chase, at the comely squaws and maidens, the
chubby brown children, the dogs snarling and savage, for they had full
complement of the grey northern huskies.

To a woman they peeped at the gate from all the cabins of the post,
save only that one who had been most eager before when the Indians came,
Maren Le Moyne, sitting in idle apathy on her sister's doorstep.

"Ma'amselle," said Marc Dupre, stopping hesitant before her, "have you
seen the Nakonkirhirinons?"

"Nay," she said listlessly, "I care not, M'sieu."

And the youth went gloomily away.

"Something there is which preys on her like the blood-sucker on the
rabbit's throat. But what? Holy Mother, what?"

His handsome eyes were troubled.

By dawn on the following day the trading had begun. Up the main way
passed a line of braves, each laden with his winter's catch of furs,
to barter at the trading-room, haggle with the clerks by sign and
pantomime, and pass down again with gun and hatchet and axe, kettle and
bright blanket, beads, and, most eagerly sought of all, yards of crimson
cloth.

There was babble of chatter among the squaws, shrill laughter, and
comparison of purchases.

In the trading-room sat the chief with his headmen and old Quamenoka
of the Assiniboines, smoking gravely many pipes and listening to the
trading. Like some wild eagle of the peaks brought down to earth he
seemed, ever alert and watchful behind his stately silence.

For two days the trading progressed finely, and McElroy had so far laid
aside his doubts as to take delight in the quality of the rare furs.

Never before had such pelts stacked themselves in the sorting-room.

It was a sight for eyes tired by many springs of common trade.

Then, like a bomb in a peaceful city, came a running word of excitement.

The Nor'wester from the Saskatchewan was among the Nakonkirhirinons! Was
at the very gates of De Seviere! When Pierre Garcon brought the news,
McElroy flushed darkly to his fair hair and went on with his work.

This was unbearable insolence.

"An', M'sieu," pursued Pierre, "not only the man from Montreal, but,
like the treacherous dog he is, among the Nor'westers is that vagabond
Bois DesCaut."

"Turncoat?" said the factor.

"Aye."

True enough. When McElroy, after trading hours, strolled down to the
gate between the bastions, whom should he behold but the hulking figure
of his erstwhile trapper, sulky of appearance, shift