He glanced down at the eager fingers,
and said coldly:

"You are a great man; you can tell a story in many ways, but I in one
way alone, and that is my way--mais oui!"

"Very well, take your own time."

"Bien. I got the story from two heads. If you hear a thing like that
from Indians, you call it 'legend'; if from the Company's papers, you
call it 'history.' Well, in this there is not much difference. The
papers tell precise the facts; the legend gives the feeling, is more
true. How can you judge the facts if you don't know the feeling? No!
what is bad turns good sometimes, when you know the how, the feeling,
the place. Well, this story of the Great Slave--eh?... There is a race
of Indians in the far north who have hair so brown like yours, m'sieu',
and eyes no darker. It is said they are of those that lived at the Pole,
before the sea swamped the Isthmus, and swallowed up so many islands.
So. In those days the fair race came to the south for the first time,
that is, far below the Circle. They had their women with them. I have
seen those of to-day: fine and tall, with breasts like apples, and
a cheek to tempt a man like you, m'sieu'; no grease in the hair--no,
M'sieu' Tybalt."

Tybalt sat moveless under the obvious irony, but his eyes were fixed
intently on Pierre, his mind ever travelling far ahead of the tale.

"Alors: the 'good cousin' of Charles Rex, he made a journey with two men
to the Far-off Metal River, and one day this tribe from the north come
on his camp. It was summer, and they were camping in the Valley of the
Young Moon, more sweet, they say, than any in the north. The Indians
cornered them. There was a fight, and one of the Company's men was
killed, and five of the other. But when the king of the people of the
Pole saw that the great man was fair of face, he called for the fight to
stop.

"There was a big talk all by signs, and the king said for the great
man to come and be one with them, for they liked his fair face--their
forefathers were fair like him. He should have the noblest of their
women for his wife, and be a prince among them. He would not go: so they
drew away again and fought. A stone-axe brought the great man to the
ground. He was stunned, not killed. Then the other man gave up, and said
he would be one of them if they would take him. They would have killed
him but for one of their women. She said that he should live to tell
them tales of the south country and the strange people, whe