was quite hopeless, for in those days the hunters were always in debt
to the company, and all they ever received for their labours were the
actual necessities of life, and not always these.

Emily was the only cheerful one now of the three. When she saw her
mother crying, she took her hand and stroked it, and said: "Mother,
dear, don't be cryin' now. 'Tis not so bad. If God wants that I get
well He'll make me well. An' I wants to stay home with you an' see
you an' father an' Bob, an' I'd be _dreadful_ homesick to go off so
far."

Emily and Bob had always been great chums and the blow to him seemed
almost more than he could bear. His heart lay in his bosom like a
stone. At first he could not think, but finally he found himself
repeating what the doctor had said about silver foxes,--"five hundred
dollars cash." This was more money than he could imagine, but he knew
it was a great deal. The company gave sixty dollars _in trade_ for the
finest silver foxes. That was supposed a liberal price--but five
hundred dollars in _cash_!

He looked longingly towards the blue hills that held their heads
against the distant sky line. Behind those hills was a great
wilderness rich in foxes and martens--but no man of the coast had ever
dared to venture far within it. It was the land of the dreaded
Nascaupees, the savage red men of the North, who it was said would
torture to a horrible death any who came upon their domain.

The Mountaineer Indians who visited the bay regularly and camped in
summer near the post, told many tales of the treachery of their
northern neighbours, and warned the trappers that they had already