the fur-trade days
as I witnessed them in my twenties--though much of the life has already
passed away--the scene is set to represent a certain year in the early
nineties.

ARTHUR HEMING.

THE DRAMA OF THE FORESTS

I

ROMANCE AND ADVENTURE

HER FATHER THE FREE TRADER

It was September 9, 189-. From sunrise to sunset through mist,
sunshine, shower, and shadow we travelled, and the nearer we drew to
our first destination, the wilder the country became, the more
water-fowl we saw, and the more the river banks were marked with traces
of big game. Here signs told us that three caribou had crossed the
stream, there muddy water was still trickling into the hoofprint of a
moose, and yonder a bear had been fishing. Finally, the day of our
arrival dawned, and as I paddled, I spent much of the time dreaming of
the adventure before me. As our beautiful birchen craft still sped on
her way, the handsome bow parted the shimmering waters, and a passing
breeze sent little running waves gurgling along her sides, while the
splendour of the autumn sun was reflected on a far-reaching row of
dazzling ripples that danced upon the water, making our voyageurs lower
their eyes and the trader doze again. There was no other sign of life
except an eagle soaring in and out among the fleecy clouds slowly
passing overhead. All around was a panorama of enchanting forest.

My travelling companion was a "Free Trader," whose name was Spear--a
tall, stoop-shouldered man with heavy eyebrows and shaggy, drooping
moustache. The way we met was amusing. It happened in a certain
frontier town. His first question was as to whether I was single. His
second, as to whether my time was my own. Then he slowly looked me
over from head to foot. He seemed to be measuring my stature and
strength and to be noting the colour of my eyes and hair.

Narrowing his vision, he scrutinized me more carefully than before, for
now he seemed to be reading my character--if not my soul. Then,
smiling, he blurted out:

"Come, be my guest for a couple of weeks. Will you?"

I laughed.

He frowned. But on realizing that my mirth was caused only by
surprise, he smiled again and let flow a vivid description of a place
he called Spearhead. It was the home of the northern fur trade. It
was the centre of a great timber region. It was the heart of a vast
fertile belt that was rapidly becoming the greatest of all farming
districts. It was built on the fou