Fear of their more warlike kin had kept them near the factories and
driven them into the ways of civilisation.
Now he sat with quiet glance upon the floor looking back into the past
year, his feathered head-dress quivering a bit and the blue smoke
rising from the pipe.
"The wind in the woods aisles is full of words, my brothers," he said,
in his own tongue, "and tales flit down the lakes like the leaves in
autumn. From the Saskatchewan come the French, who tell the
Assiniboines that at their posts will be given four axes for one
beaver, eight pounds of shot and four of powder. Yet thy brothers come
down from their lodges to Fort de Seviere because of the love they bear
to you, and for the fairness in trade that never varies. Many beavers
are in the packs, much marten and fox and ermine. We will do good
trade. Guns that are light and neat shaped to the hand, with good
locks. Also much tobacco and sweet fruits. Of these things we are
sure,--also are we sure of the next year and the next. Therefore do we
come down the rivers to the Assiniboine.
"The tales that flit in the forest, my brothers, tell of a new fort of
the French far, far to the northwest on the shores of the Slave Lake,
whose factor is of the name Living Stone.
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