The history of my predecessor being rather singular, a few words here regarding him may perhaps not be considered out of place.  He commenced his career as a hired servant, or Voyageur, as they are termed in the country, and was thirty years of age before he knew a letter of the alphabet.  Being a man possessed of strong natural parts, and great bodily strength withal, he soon distinguished himself as an under trader of uncommon tact,—­his prowess as a pugilist also gave him a very decided advantage in the field of competition.  Endowed with such qualifications, his services were duly appreciated by the traders, and he knew full well how to turn them to his own advantage.  He served all parties alike; that is, he served each in turn, and cheated and deceived them all.

After the organization of the North-West Company, he entered their service; and returning to the same quarter, Temiscamingue, where he had wintered for his last employer, he passed the post unperceived, and falling in with a band of Indians, whom he himself had supplied the preceding autumn, told them he still belonged to the same party, and traded all their furs on the spot.  The North-West Company gave him charge of a post, when his subtle management soon cleared the country of opposition.

The natives of Temiscamingue were in those times very treacherous, as they would be at this day, did they not dread the consequences; several men had been murdered by them, and they at length became exceedingly bold and daring in deeds of violence.  One example is sufficient:—­Godin happened, on one occasion, to remain at his post with only one man, who attended the nets,—­fish being the staff of life in that quarter.  Visiting them regularly every day to procure his own and his master’s subsistence, his return was one morning delayed much beyond the usual time.  Godin felt so anxious, that he determined on going to the fishery to learn the cause; and just as he had quitted the house with that intention, he met an Indian who had been for some time encamped in the vicinity, and asked him—­

“What news?”

“I have killed a white dog this morning,” was the reply.

“Indeed!” said Godin, feigning ignorance of the Indian’s meaning:  “Pray, to whom did he belong?”

“He was a stray dog, I believe.”

Conversing with him in this strain, he threw the Indian completely off his guard, while he approached him until he was sufficiently near him for his purpose, when, raising his powerful arm, he struck the savage a blow under the ear that felled him to the ground,—­he fell to rise no more.  The next moment, a couple of well-disposed Indians came to inform Godin of the murder of his man, which it appeared they could not prevent.  “My children,” said he, with the utmost composure, “the Master of life has punished your kinsman on the spot for taking the life of a white man; he told me just now that he had killed a white dog, and had scarcely finished the sentence when he fell down dead at my feet.  Feel his body, it must be still warm; examine it, and satisfy yourselves that he has suffered no violence from me, and you see that I have no weapons about me.”