s is conducted
in a quiet and orderly way.

The traders do most of their bartering with the Indians in the early
summer when the hunters return laden with the spoils of their winter's
hunt. In the early autumn, when the Indians are about to leave for
their hunting grounds, much business is done, but little in the way of
barter. At that season the Indians procure their outfit for the
winter. Being usually insolvent, owing to the leisurely time spent
upon the tribal camping grounds, they receive the necessary supplies on
credit. The amount of credit, or "advances," given to each Indian
seldom exceeds one third of the value of his average annual catch.
That is the white man's way of securing, in advance, the bulk of the
Indian's prospective hunt; yet, although a few of them are sometimes
slow in settling their debts, they are never a match for the civilized
white man.

When I entered the trading room I saw that it was furnished with a
U-shaped counter paralleling three sides of the room, and with a large
box-stove in the middle of the intervening space. On the shelves and
racks upon the walls and from hooks in the rafters rested or hung a
conglomeration of goods to be offered in trade to the natives. There
were copper pails and calico dresses, pain-killer bottles and Hudson's
Bay blankets, sow-belly and chocolate drops, castor oil and gun worms,
frying-pans and ladies' wire bustles, guns and corsets, axes and
ribbons, shirts and hunting-knives, perfumes and bear traps. In a way,
the Indian shop resembled a department store except that all the
departments were jumbled together in a single room. At one post I
visited years ago--that of Abitibi--they had a rather progressive
addition in the way of a millinery department. It was contained in a
large lidless packing case against the side of which stood a long
steering paddle for the clerk's use in stirring about the varied
assortment of white women's ancient headgear, should a fastidious
Indian woman request to see more than the uppermost layer.

Already a number of Indians were being served by the Factor and
Delaronde, the clerk, and I had not long to wait before Oo-koo-hoo
appeared. I surmised at once who he was, for one could see by the
merest glance at his remarkably pleasant yet thoroughly clever face,
that he was all his name implied, a wise, dignified old gentleman, who
was in the habit of observing much more than he gave tongue to--a rare
quality in men--e