The word was not so sincere as he would have made it, for the bowman,
jumping out into the knee-deep water to keep the boat from touching
bottom, had floundered like an ox, thereby proving his newness at the
business. On the face of the swarthy Canuck guide who sat in the stern
there was a weary contempt.

"Friends, M'sieurs?" called McElroy tardily, scarcely deeming such
precaution necessary, yet giving the hail from force of habit.

They looked for the most part Scottish, these men, save here and there
among them one who might be anything of the motley that came across
each year.

In the first canoe a figure had risen and stood tall and straight among
the bales of goods with which the craft was seen to be close packed
from bow to stern, a figure striking in its lack of kinship to its
surroundings, yet commanding in its beauty. Garments of cloth, of a gay
blue shade and much adorned with trimming of gold braid, fitted close
to the slender form of the man. His limbs from the knee were encased in
leggings made, most evidently, in some leather shop, while tilted on
his splendid head he wore a hat of so wide a brim that no sunlight
touched either face or throat, while from beneath this covering there
fell to his shoulder long curls of hair that shone like silk. This,
evidently, was the leader of the party.

"Friends," he said, "bound for the west and the country of the
Saskatchewan."

For all his appearance he spoke with the accent of the French, and for