ay twenty, and lays
by thirty every year, is he not rich?"

"Ferry true, Muster Sutherland," said McKay, with a peculiar smile, as
he emitted his first whiff. "I wull not be arguin' wi' you, for you
always get the best of it. Nevertheless, it is my opeenion that we've
had treebulation enough in Rud Ruver since we came oot, an' I would be
ferry gled of a luttle prosperity now--if only by way of a pleesant
change."

Recurring to this subject a few days later, young Morel asked Dan
Davidson, while they were paddling back to camp together one evening
with the proceeds of a day's hunt: "Has your life in the colony, since
the beginning, been as bad as old McKay made it out the other day?"

"Well, making due allowance for the old man's use of strong language,
his account of matters has not been much overdrawn," answered Dan, who,
in virtue of his superior canoe-craft, acted the part of steersman.
"You see, when we came out here we expected, like you, that all would be
plain sailing, except as regarded climate and ordinary difficulties, but
our eyes were soon opened to the true state of things. Instead of the
wilderness, with a few peaceful inhabitants living under the mild sway
of the Hudson Bay Company, we found another company, apparently as
strong as the Hudson's Bay one, in violent opposition. They regarded
our coming as likely to ruin their trade, for Lord Selkirk was a share
holder in the Hudson's Bay Company, and it was supposed his object in
planting the colony was to advance his scheme of monopolising the whole
fur-trade of the Far West. I cannot myself see how this colony could
injure the fur-trade; but, anyhow, I know that the opposition has
affected the colonists very severely, for we have been deceived by the
contending parties, and misled, and delayed or thwarted in all our
operations.

"At the very outset, on our arrival, a band of the Nor'-Westers,
composed of half-breeds and Indians, warned us that our presence was
unwelcome, and tried to frighten us away by their accounts of the savage
nature of the natives. Then the fear of perishing for want of food
induced a lot of us to take their advice, leave the farms allotted to
us, and go to a place called Pembina, about seventy miles distant from
the colony, there to spend the long and hard winter in tents, according
to the Indian fashion, and live on the produce of the chase."

"I should have thought that was a pleasant way of spending the first
winter,