There was a scene not to be likened to any other outside the region of
the Hudson Bay country, where strange relations existed between white
trader and savage, when Edmonton Ridgar met the canoe of the chief at
the landing.
Savage delight overspread the eagle features of Negansahima as he
beheld the white man.
Towering mightily in the prow of his canoe, the sweeping head-dress of
feathers crowning him with a certain majesty, he fixed his keen glance
on Ridgar and came gliding toward him across the rippled water.
As the canoe cut cleanly up and stopped just short of scraping on the
stones at the edge, obeying the paddles like a thoroughbred the bit,
the chief trader of De Seviere stepped forward and held out his arms.
"Who art thou?" he called.
Deep and guttural as thunder from the broad chest, naked under the
lines of elk teeth, came the reply,
"Thy father"
"And master of my goods. The heart of thy son melts as the snow in
spring. Wiskendjac has sent thee."
McElroy, standing near, saw the face of his friend illumined with a
real affection as the savage landed and, contrary to the custom of the
Indians in the lower country, embraced with every sign of joy the lean
white man whose skin was nearly as dark as his own and whose greying
temples bespoke almost a as many years as the chief's black locks could
boast.
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