eemed ready to devour her and her fish alike.

Uncle Dick joined their group as they wandered around, and explained
such things as they did not understand.

"This is one of the greatest posts of all the fur trade," said he. "It
is the center, as you have learned, of a lot of the native tribes in
this part of the world. It ships from here an enormous amount of fur
which the traders collect. The independent traders are breaking in
here now, but the natives learn to catch more and more fur, so it
seems. I suppose in time it will be exterminated. Then the natives
will go, too.

"Over yonder is a tombstone, but not any monument for Sir Alexander.
It tells about the life-history of an old factor who lived here for so
long in this wilderness. It's all old, old, old--older almost than any
city in the United States, or at least older than a great many of our
considerable cities. But you would think this was at the beginning.
There are the natives, and there are the dogs, just as they were when
Sir Alexander came through. Perhaps they didn't have so much calico
then. Of course they didn't have repeating-rifles then, and surely not
steel traps. But they talked the same language, and in my opinion they
had about as much religion then as they have now."

"What's that boat out there with a sail on it?" demanded Rob, after a
time, pointing to a small craft which was moored near by.

"Goodness only knows," replied Uncle Dick. "There are all sorts of
fool adventurers in the world, and they take all sorts of fool
chances. I have heard that there are a half-dozen prospectors in that
schooner, going north, they don't know where nor why.

"Well, at least we can say we're in the North here," he added. "They
get just nine mails a year at Chippewyan, about four mails in and the
rest of them go out. In the summer-time mail service runs about once a
month.

"They say they did have a horse in here two years ago, and that it ran
off, and they did not find it for two years. They had a team at Fort
McMurray, and it was lost, too. I wouldn't call this a good horse
country myself! No, it's a fur country and an Indian country. That's
why it's interesting to us, isn't it?"

"Well," said John, "we ought to get some pictures of the treaty
payments to the Indians to show our folks back home how they live up
here. I wish I had brought along twice as many rolls of film as I've
got. I never get tired of making pictures of dogs and Indians."

"Well,