attending to their traps far up the small branches of the Saskatchewan,
or the Athabasca.

In the spring the posts of the Hudson Bay Company are busy places, with
these various companies of _voyageurs_ and trappers coming in with their
loads, for which they are paid, partly in cash and the balance in store
goods. It is then that the resident factor has to exercise his wisdom in
handling so varied an assortment of characters, and keeping them from
getting into fierce fights, since they are bound to get hold of more or
less liquor, and the closing of a successful season, with a period of
rest before them, is apt to make them hilarious.

Cuthbert asked many questions along this line, being sincerely desirous
of obtaining information at first hands; but while Owen answered readily
enough, and explained any point that seemed a bit hazy to his listeners,
it might have been noted that he did not offer to launch out into a
voluntary description of life as it was to be seen at one of these
posts--Cuthbert even fancied that the subject was not wholly pleasing to
the lad, and came to the conclusion that whatever of trouble Owen might
have met with recently, it must have had some connection with one of
these posts.

They were delayed for some time after eating, for Cuthbert was desirous
of attending to some little thing that needed fixing about the canoe;
and Owen, who had never set eyes on a cedar boat of this delicate
character, willingly lent a hand to the accomplishment of the task,
satisfied to just handle such a dainty wizard craft, which in his eyes,
accustomed to canoes of birch, or even dugouts, and others made of
animal skins, assumed the character of something almost too pretty to be
touched.

They paddled for just about three hours that afternoon, and met one
Indian in a birch bark canoe, shooting downstream.

Both Cuthbert and Eli greeted him heartily; but they noticed that he
looked at their new companion in something of a strange manner, though
not saying a word to Owen, who seemed to pay no attention to the
copper-skinned voyager.

If the scowl upon the face of the lone paddler was any indication of his
feelings, there could not possibly be any love lost between them; and
noticing that one of the fellow's eyes seemed swollen, the idea thrust
itself into Cuthbert's mind, ridiculous as it might seem, that possibly
Owen might have had something to do with that catastrophe.

Cuthbert had kept his eyes on the a