wants had
to be considered with relation to the pile of quill-wealth at his elbow,
and, what was of far greater importance and difficulty to a kind man,
the wants of his squaw and Adolay had also to be thought of. Mozwa,
having left a squaw, two little daughters, and a very small son, had
still greater difficulties to contend with. But they both faced them
like men.

"Pasgissegan," said both men, at length, simultaneously.

"I thought so," observed the trader, with a smile, as he selected two
trade-guns--the fire-spouters of the Eskimo--and handed them across the
counter.

The Indians received the weapons with almost tender care; examined them
carefully; took long and steady aim at the windows several times;
snapped the flints to make sure that the steels were good, and,
generally, inspected every detail connected with them. Being satisfied,
they rested them against the wall, the trader withdrew the price of the
guns from the two little piles, threw the quills into an empty box under
the counter, and looked--if he did not say, "What next?"

Powder, shot, and ball came next, and then the means of hunting and
self-defence having been secured, beads and scarlet cloth for the women
claimed their attention. It was an interesting sight to see these tall,
dark-skinned sons of the forest handling the cloth and fingering the
various articles with all the gravity and deliberation of experts, with
now and then a low-toned comment, or a quiet question as to the price.

"You'll want that," suggested Mowat, as he threw a small thick blanket--
quite a miniature blanket--towards Mozwa, "your small boy will want it."

"Ho!" exclaimed the Indian, with a look of surprise in spite of himself,
"how do you know?"

"I didn't know. I only guessed; but your question shows me I'm right.
Any more?"

"Yes, two more, but bigger."

"Of course bigger, for it's not likely they were all born at the same
time," returned Mowat, with a grin.

"What iss this man wantin', Tonal'? I can't make him out at all," asked
MacSweenie.

It was found that Nazinred had been pointing with eager pertinacity at
something lying on one of the shelves which had caught his eye, but the
name of which he did not know.

"Oh! I see," added the trader, "it iss a cocktail feather you want."

"Yes, for my daughter," exclaimed the Indian as he received the feather
and regarded it with some uncertainty--as well he might, for the feather
in question was a thing