the shore where the sun rises. They are not women,
and when their enemies hear the sound of their name they grow pale;
their hearts become like those of the reindeer. My brethren are famous,
too, in the use of the snow-shoe, the snare, and the gun. The
fur-traders know that they must build large stores when they come into
their lands. They bring up much goods, because the young men are active
and require much. The silver fox and the marten are no longer safe when
their traps and snares are set. Yes, they are good hunters; and we have
now come to live among you" (Jacques changed his style as he came nearer
to the point), "to trade with you, and to save you the trouble of making
long journeys with your skins. A few days' distance from your wigwams
we have pitched our tents. Our young men are even now felling the trees
to build a house. Our nets are set, our hunters are prowling in the
woods, our goods are ready, and my young master and I have come to smoke
the pipe of friendship with you, and to invite you to come to trade with
us."

Having delivered this oration, Jacques sat down amid deep silence.
Other speeches, of a highly satisfactory character, were then made,
after which "the house adjourned," and the visitors, opening one of
their packages, distributed a variety of presents to the delighted
natives.

Several times during the course of these proceedings Charley's eyes
wandered among the faces of his entertainers, in the hope of seeing
Redfeather among them, but without success; and he began to fear that
his friend was not with the tribe.

"I say, Jacques," he said, as they left the tent, "ask whether a chief
called Redfeather is here. I knew him of old, and half expected to find
him at this place."

The Indian to whom Jacques put the question replied that Redfeather was
with them, but that he had gone out on a hunting expedition that
morning, and might be absent a day or two.

"Ah!" exclaimed Charley, "I'm glad he's here. Come, now, let us take a
walk in the wood; these good people stare at us as if we were ghosts."
And taking Jacques's arm, he led him beyond the circuit of the camp,
turned into a path which, winding among the thick underwood, speedily
screened them from view, and led them into a sequestered glade, through
which a rivulet trickled along its course, almost hid from view by the
dense foliage and long grasses that overhung it.

"What a delightful place to live in!" said Charley. "D