es that mean?" asked John, again.

"Well, about the same as boss, I suppose. It's always necessary in
dealing with ignorant and savage peoples to take the attitude that you
are the boss, and that they are to do what you tell them. If you get
too familiar or lower yourself too much with primitive people, they
don't respect you, because they think you're afraid of them.

"Now, that has always been the custom of the Hudson's Bay Company in
this work. In the old days, when things were more autocratic, when a
factor went on a journey his people picked him up and carried him into
his boat, and when he went ashore they picked him up and carried him
out again. If anybody got wet or tired or hungry be sure it wasn't the
boss!

"You see, young gentlemen, while I don't want you, of all things in
the world, ever to be snobbish, I do want you to be observant. So just
take this advice from me, and let these men do your work right at the
start. They expect it, and they will treat you all the better--and of
course you will treat them well."

"Who is that old pirate standing over there by the boat landing?"
asked Jesse, presently, pointing to a tall, dark, and sinewy man with
full black beard, who seemed to have a certain authority among the
laborers.

"That's Cap. Shott. I've told you that he was the first man who ever
ran the Grand Rapids of the Athabasca River. His real name is Louis
Faisoneure. He's seventy-seven years old, but still he likes to go
down with the brigade, part way at least.

"The quiet young man just beyond him is his son, Francois. He is the
real captain--or commodore, as they call it--of the brigade, and has
been for several years. He'll be the steersman on our boat, so that in
one way you might say that the _Midnight Sun_, although not a Company
boat, will pretty much be the flag-ship of the brigade this year.
They're treating us as well as they know how, and I must say we'll
have no cause to complain."

"Cap. Shott," as they nicknamed him, did indeed have a piratical look,
as John had said. He stood more than six and a half feet in his
moccasins, and was straight as an arrow, with the waist of a boy. His
face was dark, his eyebrows very heavy and black, and his dark, full
beard, his scant trousers held up with a brilliant scarf, and his
generally ferocious appearance, gave him a peculiarly wild and
outlandish look, although personally he was gentle as a child.

"Well, Cap. Shott," said Uncle Dick, appro