“Then the railroad entered the west.  The charter of monopoly ran out.  Through the Nipissing, the Athabasca, the Edmonton, came the Free Traders—­men who traded independently.  These the Company could not control, so it competed—­and to its credit its competition has held its own.  Even far into the Northwest, where the trails are long, the Free Traders have established their chains of supplies, entering into rivalry with the Company for a barter it has always considered its right.  The medicine has been bitter, but the servants of the Company have adjusted themselves to the new conditions, and are holding their own.

“But one region still remains cut off from the outside world by a broad band of unexplored waste.  The life here at Hudson’s Bay—­although you may not know it—­is exactly the same to-day that it was two hundred years ago.  And here the Company makes its stand for a monopoly.

“At first it worked openly.  But in the case of Guillaume Sayer, a daring and pugnacious metis, it got into trouble with the law.  Since that time it has wrapped itself in secrecy and mystery, carrying on its affairs behind the screen of five hundred miles of forest.  Here it has still the power; no man can establish himself here, can even travel here, without its consent, for it controls the food and the Indians.  The Free Trader enters, but he does not stay for long.  The Company’s servants are mindful of their old fanatical ideal.  Nothing is ever known, no orders are ever given, but something happens, find the man never ventures again.

“If he is an ordinary metis or Canadian, he emerges from the forest starved, frightened, thankful.  If his story is likely to be believed in high places, he never emerges at all.  The dangers of wilderness travel are many:  he succumbs to them.  That is the whole story.  Nothing definite is known; no instances can be proved; your father denies the legend and calls it a myth.  The Company claims to be ignorant of it, perhaps its greater officers really are, but the legend holds so good that the journey has its name—­la Longue Traverse.

“But remember this, no man is to blame—­unless it is he who of knowledge takes the chances.  It is a policy, a growth of centuries, an idea unchangeable to which the long services of many fierce and loyal men have given substance.  A Factor cannot change it.  If he did, the thing would be outside of nature, something not to be understood.

“I am here.  I am to take la Longue Traverse.  But no man is to blame.  If the scheme of the thing is wrong, it has been so from the very beginning, from the time when King Charles set his signature to the charter of unlimited authority.  The history of a thousand men gives the tradition power, gives it insistence.  It is bigger than any one individual.  It is as inevitable as that water should flow down hill.”

He had spoken quietly, but very earnestly, still holding her two hands, and she had sat looking at him unblinking from eyes behind which passed many thoughts.  When he had finished, a short pause followed, at the end of which she asked unexpectedly,