inging,
white men turned to brown by exposure, Indians, half-breeds of varying
shades, and attire that was really indescribable.

"Is it an attack?" and Madame Giffard clung to her guide in affright.

He laughed reassuringly.

"It is only the awakening of Quebec after its long hibernation. They
have been expected some days. Ah, now you will see the true business
side and really believe the town flourishing, be able to carry a good
report back to France."

They looked over the land side from the eminence of the fortifications.
Quebec did not mean to admit these roisterers within her precincts,
which were none too well guarded. Still the cannons looked rather
formidable from their embrasures. But as little would these lawless men
have cared to be under the guard of the soldiery.

They seemed to come to a pause. Indians and half-breeds threw down their
packs. Some sat on them and gesticulated fiercely, as if on the verge of
a quarrel. A few, who seemed the leaders, went about ordering, pointing
to places where a few stakes had been driven. Great bundles were
unpacked, a centre pole reared, and a tent was in progress.

"Why, it is like a magic play," and she clapped her hands in eager
delight. "Will they live here? Oh, where is Laurent, I wonder. He ought
to see this."

"They will live here a month or so. Some of the earlier ones will go
away, new ones come. The company's furs will be packed and loaded on
vessels for France, but there are plenty of others who trade on their
own account. There will be roistering and drinking and quarrelling and
dickering, and then the tents will be folded and packed and the throng
take up their march for the great north again, and months of hunting."

It was fascinating to watch them. They were building stone fireplaces
outside and kindling fires. Here some deft hands were skinning a moose
or a deer and placing portions on a rude spit. And there was the Sieur
de Champlain and a dozen or so of armed soldiers, he holding parley with
some of the leaders.

"Oh, there is M. Giffard," she cried presently. "And look--are
there--women?"

"Squaws. Oh, yes."

"Do they travel, I mean come from the fur country? What a long journey
it must be for them."

"They do not mind. They are nomads of the wilderness. You know the
Indians never build towns as we do. Some of them settle for months until
the hunting gives out, then they are off on a new trail."

"What queer people. One would think th