I shall here relate a circumstance that occurred at this time, as an
example of the cunning of the Indians in devising plans to evade us.
Soon after their arrival, an old squaw brought to our house several
casseaux[1] of sugar, and pointing out one, which she said was left open
for immediate consumption, said she would return for it presently. She
came next day and took the casseaux down to the tent of the Algonquin
chief, who had passed the spring close by, and was now building a
canoe, preparatory to his departure for the Lake. Soon after I went
to have a chat with the chief, and found only his squaw at home. I
observed the casseau, and asked for what purpose it was brought there.
"Mine hostess" smiled, and answered, "You ought to know everything
about it, when it has just quitted your house and passed the night
with you. You whites pretend to be very cunning," she continued, "but
when an Indian, or even an old squaw tries to cheat you, your 'white'
knowledge is no match for her. Now look into that casseau, Anamatik,[2]
and see what is in it."

[1] Packages made of bark.

[2] My Indian cognomen.

I looked, and found, instead of sugar, a very valuable bundle of furs.

"What do you think of the sugar?"

"Oh, it is very fine indeed; so much finer than any that I have, that
I must take it along with me."

"Your white neighbour will be angry with you, for it is left here for
him."