cts
resembled telegraph poles, being of pine timber, slightly flattened at
one end to resemble the blade of an oar, and at the other end cut down
into long handles that the user might clasp with his two hands.

When the Indian had roughly trimmed these giant oars, with the help of an
assistant, who in the meantime seemed to have no other duty except to
puff his charred black pipe, the old "Baptiste" balanced the piece of
timber on a rock. Carefully testing the spar, in order to get the exact
point of equilibrium, the oar maker then made a rectangular hole through
the six inches of timber. The two boys understood.

At the rear of each flatboat a steel pin extended seven or eight inches
above the woodwork. When this pin was thrust through the hole in the oar,
the great sweep hung almost balanced, and the steersman who used it to
guide the unwieldy craft forced the blade of the oar back and forth
against the current with the force of his body. The boys found it almost
impossible to lift one of the oars.

"I can see now," panted Roy, as he looked over the tree-like sweep,
"where experience comes in."

CHAPTER VIII

COUNT ZEPT MAKES HIMSELF KNOWN AT THE LANDING

At the noon meal, Count Zept reported that Athabasca Landing was
certainly a live town. He explained that he had met the most important
man in town, the sergeant of the mounted police, and that he had been
introduced to many of the influential merchants. He had examined the
store of the Revillon Freres and was somewhat disappointed in his
inability to secure a black fox skin which he had promised to send to his
sister.

The Revillon Freres being the well-known rival of the Hudson's Bay
Company, young Zept in his disappointment had also gone to the Hudson's
Bay store, but there he had been equally unsuccessful, although at both
places he saw plenty of baled skins. Colonel Howell laughed.

"My dear boy," he explained, "furs do not go looking for buyers in this
part of the world. Inexperienced travelers seem to have the idea that
Indians stand around on the corners waiting to sell fox skins. Skins are
getting to be too rare for that now and, believe me, the fur companies
get their eye on them before the traveler can. And the companies pay all
they're worth."

"Anyway," remarked the Count, "I can get a small eighteen-foot canoe for
a hundred and twenty-five dollars. Don't you think I'd better buy one?
The H. B. Company has some fine ones--the kind the