an of sentiment, but
ye are the exception, Tonal', that proves the rule. Away wi' you an'
gie my orders to the cook, an' see that you have the fuddle in goot
tune, for we will want it to-night. An' let him hev plenty of tea, for
if we gain the women we're sure o' the men."

Mowat retired with a smile on his broad benignant face. He understood
his leader, and was not offended by his plain speaking. Besides, it was
not easy to make the interpreter take offence. His spirit was of that
happy nature which hopeth all things and believeth all things. It
flowed calm and deep like an untroubled river. Nothing short of a
knock-down blow would have induced Donald Mowat to take offence, but
that would certainly have stirred him, and as he possessed vast physical
strength, and was something awful to behold when roused, and his
comrades were aware of these facts, the serenity of his life was not
often or deeply ruffled.

The cook, who was an enthusiast in his art, did his best, and was
eminently successful. His plum-duff dumpling was bigger than any gun--
at least of ancient type--could have swallowed, and the plums, as Mowat
afterwards said, did not need to seek for each other. He made enough of
delightfully greasy cakes to feed an army, and, according to his own
statement, infused "lashin's o' tea."

Before the hour for the feast arrived that night, Mowat got out his
violin and went into one of the rooms of the new house to put it in
order. The window of the room looked towards the back of the house,
where the forest was seen just beyond the plateau.

Drawing a bench to the window, he sat down and opened the case. Of
course he found the first string broken, but that did not break his
heart, for he had a good supply of spare strings, and if these should
fail--well, there were plenty of deer-sinews in the land. It was soon
put to rights, and, leaning his back against the wall, he began to
tickle the strings gently. Whatever he was at other times, there is no
doubt that the interpreter was full of genuine sentiment the moment he
got the violin under his chin.

Now at that moment three young Dogrib braves chanced to be passing under
the window, which was about seven feet from the ground. Though equally
young, and no doubt equally brave, as well as equally Dogribbed, those
three youths were not equally matched, for one was tall and thin,
another was short and thick, while the third was middle-sized and fat.
They had