il I'm of
age. She's ten years older than I am, and has been my guardian since
Father died. She'll not object, for she has a great deal of confidence
in my judgment.

"When Father died, nearly three years ago, he left me a snug fortune,
and I have plenty to live on even if our trading venture doesn't prove
a money-making business at first."

"'Tis a wonderful lot o' money!" declared Bob. "More'n I can think!"

"We'll need a pretty fair capital to succeed," said Shad. "We'll have
to purchase a vessel of some sort to carry on trade along the outer
coast, and bring our supplies to the Bay, and carry to market our
furs, fish, and oil. You'll look after the native trade, with the men
you employ to help you, but I'll have to engage expert assistance in
purchasing the trading goods and disposing of the products to the best
advantage until I finish college and learn my end of the business. All
will cost money, though I hope when we once get started we'll build up
a trade that will warrant it."

Bob went to his bunk that night with his head all awhirl. The amount
of capital which Shad proposed to put into their partnership, and the
extensive business which he proposed to build up, were too big and too
wonderful for Bob to comprehend all at once.

A substantial structure had indeed taken the place of his tumbled air
castles, though it was long before he could bring himself to realise
that this structure was not, after all, another and greater air castle
than those which had been destroyed.

XXIX

THE FRUIT OF MANIKAWAN'S SACRIFICE

At length the break-up came, much as it always comes in that country.
The sun, grown strong and bold, vanquished the Spirit of Frost. The
snow became a sea of slush, and water covered the ice of lakes and
river. Finally the clouds opened, and for a week rain fell in a
deluge.

A thousand new streams sprang into being, rushing in white torrents to
join the swollen river. Cascades fell from every ledge and parapet.
Now and again a great boulder was loosened and went crashing down a
hillside with terrifying roar. The river, freed from its ice shackles,
overflowed its banks, and in the wild, unrestrained ardour of its new
power uprooted trees and washed them away upon its turbulent bosom as
it dashed madly seaward.

One day, when the rain had ceased and the waters had somewhat
subsided, Ungava Bob and Shad Trowbridge, accompanied by Mookoomahn,
turned northward in Shad's canoe to the Grea