than amongst themselves.

When an Indian is about to enter a wigwam, he utters the word or sound
"Quay" in a peculiar tone; the word repeated from within is considered
as an invitation to enter. Should he neglect to announce himself
in this way he is considered as ill-bred--an unmannerly boor. The
left-hand side of the wigwam as you enter is considered the place
of honour; here the father of the family and chief squaw take their
station, the young men on the opposite side, and the women next to the
door, or at the upper end of the fire-place, both ends being alike
plebeian. When a person of respectability enters, the father, moving
towards the door, resigns his place to his guest, places skins under
him, and otherwise pays every attention to his comfort. They are
extremely hospitable, and cheerfully share their last morsel with the
stranger who may be in want. Hospitality, however, is a virtue which
civilization rarely improves.

A good hunter always leaves his lodge by dawn of day, and seldom
tastes food till he returns late at night. Hunting beavers is a most
laborious occupation, and becomes more so in proportion to the
scarcity of these animals; for this reason, that when a great number
of beavers occupy a lake, their places of retreat are in closer
proximity to each other, and for the most part inhabited; if the
number be reduced, it is likely they will have the same places of
retreat, and the hunter must bore through the ice, before he can
ascertain whether they are inhabited or not.

The sagacity of their dogs is truly surprising. The beaver house being
first destroyed by the hunter, the dogs are urged by a peculiar call
to scent out their retreats, which they never fail to do, whatever