tle that I want. Not much. Just enough to keep body and soul from
sayin' good-bye."

"But you have not paid a fraction of your old debt. How will you be
expectin' to meet the new one?"

Oh! La Certe could easily explain that. He was going off immediately
to hunt and trap, and would soon return with a heavy load, for there
were plenty of animals about. Then in the spring, which was near at
hand, he meant to fish, or go to the plains with the hunters, and return
laden with bags of pemmican, bales of dried meat, and buffalo-robes
enough to pay off all his debts, and leave something over to enable him
to spend the winter in luxurious idleness.

"And you expect me to believe all that nonsense?" said McKay, sternly.

La Certe was hurt. Of course he expected to be believed! His feelings
were injured, but he was of a forgiving disposition and would say no
more about it. He had expected better treatment, however, from one who
had known him so long.

"A trip to the plains requires more than powder and shot," said the
store-keeper; "where will you be goin' to get a horse an' cart? for you
can hev mine no longer."

"Dechamp, he promise to sole me a horse, an' Mrs Davis'n will loan me a
cart," returned the half-breed, with lofty independence.

"Hm! an' you will be returnin' the cart an' payin' for the horse when
the hunt is over, I suppose?"

Yes, that was exactly the idea that was in La Certe's brain, and which,
he hoped and fully expected, to reduce to practice in course of time--if
Duncan McKay would only assist him by making him a few advances at that
present time.

"Well, what do you want?" asked McKay, getting off the bath.

The half-breed wanted a good many things. As he was going off in the
course of a few days, and might not be able to return for a long time,
he might as well take with him even a few things that he did not
absolutely need at the moment. Of course he wanted a good supply of
powder, shot, and ball. Without that little or nothing could be done.
Then a new axe, as his old one was much worn--the steel almost gone--and
it was well-known that a trapper without an axe was a very helpless
creature. A tin kettle was, of course, an absolute necessity; and the
only one he possessed had a small hole in it. A few awls to enable him
to mend his bark canoe when open water came, and a couple of steel
traps, some gun-flints, and, O yes, he had almost forgotten a most
essential thing--twine to make a