The men were busy with soft-voiced talk, punctuating their remarks with
low laughter of a singularly infectious character. It was strange
speech, richly embroidered with the musical names of places, with
unfamiliar names of beasts, and with unintelligible names of things.
Kenógami, Mamátawan, Wenebógan, Kapúskasíng, the silver-fox, the
sea-otter, the sable, the wolverine, the musk-ox, parka, babiche,
tump-line, giddés,--these and others sang like arrows cleaving the
atmosphere of commoner words. In the distant woods the white-throats and
olive thrushes called in a language hardly less intelligible.

There scarcely needed the row of glistening birch-barks below the men,
the warehouse with its picketed lane, the tall flag-staff, the
block-house stockade, the half-bred women chatting over the low fences
of the log-houses, the squaws wandering to and fro in picturesque
silence, the Indian children playing noisily or standing in awe before
the veranda of the white house, to inform the initiated that this little
forest- and river-girt settlement was a post of the Honourable the
Hudson's Bay Company. The time of sunset and the direction of the
river's flow would have indicated a high latitude. The mile-long meadow,
with its Indian camp, the oval of forest, the immense breadth of the
river identified the place as Conjuror's House. Thus the blue water in
the distance was James Bay, the river was the Moose; enjoying his Manila
cheroot on the Factory veranda with the other officers of the Company
was Galen Albret, and these men lounging on the river bank were the
Company's post-keepers and runners, the travellers of the Silent Places.

They were of every age and dressed in a variety of styles. All wore
ornamented moccasins, bead garters, and red sashes of worsted. As to the
rest, each followed his taste. So in the group could be seen bare heads,