ut the Company is
here for ever. But I will not be hard on you; I will wait and see how
you look at me."

For a while the dignified Indian sat puffing at his pipe and gazing at
the fire. Every line of his weather-beaten and wrinkled but handsome
face was full of sterling character. At times his small eyes twinkled
as a flash of cunning crept into them, and a keen sense of humour
frequently twitched the corners of his determined mouth. Then he
brought out a pack of furs and, handing it to Lawson, said:

"This is to pay the Great Company for the advances they gave us last
summer."

Lawson took the bundle without opening it, as it would not be checked
over until he delivered it at Fort Consolation. Resenting the Indian's
attitude toward Gibeault he began:

"I see, now that there's another trader here, it's easy for you to
forget your old friends. The free trader comes and goes. Give him
your furs, an' he doesn't care whether you're dead to-morrow. It's not
like that with the Great Company. The Company came first among your
people, and since then it has been like a father, not only to all your
people before you, but to you as well. Whenever your forefathers were
smitten with hunger or disease, who looked after them? It wasn't the
free trader; it was the Company. Who sells you the best goods? It
isn't the free trader; it's the Company. Who gave you your debt last
fall and made it possible for you to hunt this winter? It wasn't the
free trader; it was the Company. My brother, you have none to thank
but the Great Company that you're alive to-day."

With a grunt of disapproval Oo-koo-hoo sullenly retorted:

"The Priest says it is The Master of Life we have to thank for that. I
am sure that the Commissioner of the Great Company is not so great as
God. It is true you give us good prices now, but it is also true that
you have not given us back the countless sums you stole from our
fathers and grandfathers and all our people before them; for did you
not wait until the coming of the free traders before you would give us
the worth of our skins? No wonder you are great masters; it seems to
me that it takes great rogues to become great masters."

The angry Lawson, to save a quarrel, bit his moustache, smiled faintly
and, presenting the hunter with even more than Gibeault had given, said:

"Never mind, my brother, you're a pretty smart man."

Without replying, Oo-koo-hoo accepted the present so eagerly that