the service of individuals, but more especially of the fur traders.
They are generally of French descent, and inherit much of the gayety and
lightness of heart of their ancestors, being full of anecdote and song,
and ever ready for the dance. They inherit, too, a fund of civility and
complaisance; and, instead of that hardness and grossness which men in
laborious life are apt to indulge towards each other, they are mutually
obliging and accommodating; interchanging kind offices, yielding each
other assistance and comfort in every emergency, and using the familiar
appellations of "cousin" and "brother" when there is in fact no
relationship. Their natural good-will is probably heightened by a
community of adventure and hardship in their precarious and wandering
life.

No men are more submissive to their leaders and employers, more capable
of enduring hardship, or more good-humored under privations. Never are
they so happy as when on long and rough expeditions, toiling up rivers
or coasting lakes; encamping at night on the borders, gossiping round
their fires, and bivouacking in the open air. They are dextrous boatmen,
vigorous and adroit with the oar and paddle, and will row from
morning until night without a murmur. The steersman often sings an old
traditionary French song, with some regular burden in which they all
join, keeping time with their oars; if at any time they flag in spirits
or relax in exertion, it is but necessary to strike up a song of the
kind to put them all in fresh spirits and activity. The Canadian waters
are vocal with these little French chansons, that have been echoed from
mouth to mouth and transmitted from father to son, from the earliest
days of the colony; and it has a pleasing effect, in a still golden
summer evening, to see a batteau gliding across the bosom of a lake and
dipping its oars to the cadence of these quaint old ditties, or sweeping
along in full chorus on a bright sunny morning, down the transparent