Thus equipped, he entered upon his three years’ service, to toil by day, and laugh, joke, sing, and tell stories when the evening hour brought rest and liberty.

There was not wanting here and there an instance of obstinate adherence to the exact letter of the agreement in regard to the nature of employment, although, as a general thing, the engage held himself ready to fulfil the behests of his bourgeois, as faithfully as ever did vassal those of his chief.

A Story is told of M. St. Jean, a trader on the Upper Mississippi, who upon a certain occasion ordered one of his Frenchmen to accompany a party to the forest to chop wood.  The man refused.  “He was not hired,” he said, “to chop wood.”

“Ah! for what, then, were you hired?”

“To steer a boat.”

“Very well; steer a boat, then, since you prefer it.”

It was mid-winter.  The recusant was marched to the river-side, and placed in the stern of the boat, which lay fastened in the ice.

After serving a couple of hours at his legitimate employment, with the thermometer below zero, he was quite content to take his place with the chopping-party, and never again thought it good policy to choose work for himself.

There is an aristocracy in the voyageur service which is quite amusing.  The engagement is usually made for three years.  The engage of the first year, who is called a “mangeur-de-lard,” or pork-eater, is looked down upon with the most sovereign contempt by an “hivernant,” or one who has already passed a winter in the country.  He will not only not associate with him, but if invited by him to join him in a friendly glass, he will make some excuse for declining.  The most inveterate drunkard, while tortured by a longing to partake his favorite indulgence, will yet never suffer himself to be enticed into an infringement of this custom.

After the first winter, the mangeur-de-lard rises from his freshman class, and takes his place where he can in turn lord it over all new-comers.

Another peculiarity of the voyageurs is their fancy for transforming the names of their bourgeois into something funny, which resembles it in sound.  Thus, Kinzie would be called by one “Quinze nez” (fifteen noses), by another “Singe” (monkeyfied).  Mr. Kercheval was denominated Mons. Court-cheval (short horse), the Judge of Probate, “le Juge Trop-bete" (too foolish), etc.  The following is an instance in point.

Mr. Shaw, one of the agents of the Northwest Fur Company, had passed many years on the frontier, and was by the voyageurs called Monsieur Le Chat.[28] On quitting the Indian country he married a Canadian lady and became the father of several children.  Some years after his return to Canada, his old foreman, named Louis la Liberte, went to Montreal to spend the winter.  He had heard of his old bourgeois’ marriage, and was anxious to see him.