the Hudson Bay people treat the Indians well; there was a starving lad
you picked up suffering from snow-blindness near Jack-pine River and
sent back safely to his tribe."

"That's so; but I don't know how you knew. I'm sure I haven't talked
about it, and my clerk has never left the factory. There wasn't
another white man within a week's Journey."

Clarke smiled.

"I heard, all the same. You afterward had some better furs than usual
brought in."

The agent looked surprised.

"Some of these people are grateful, but although I've been in the
country twelve years I don't pretend to understand them."

"They understand you. The proof of it is that you can keep your
factory open in a district where furs are rather scarce, and you have
had very few mishaps. You can take that as a compliment."

Blake noticed something significant in Clarke's tone.

"Then you know the Jack-pine?" the agent asked.

"Pretty well, though it's not easy to reach. I came down it one winter
from the Wild-goose hills. I'd put in the winter with a band of
Stonies."