him his stock of wild-rice, went and got his gun and tomahawk, and shook the tomahawk over his head, saying, ‘Now, give me your wild-rice.’  The trader complied with his exaction, but not so did Mr. B. in the adventure which I am about to relate.  Key-way-no-wut came frequently to him with furs, wishing him to give for them, cotton-cloth, sugar, flour, &c.  Mr. B. explained to him that he could not trade for furs, as he was sent there as a teacher, and that it would be like putting his hand into the fire to do so, as the traders would inform against him, and he would be sent out of the country.  At the same time, he gave him the articles which he wished.  Key-way-no-wut found this a very convenient way of getting what he wanted, and followed up this sort of game, until, at last, it became insupportable.  One day the Indian brought a very large otter-skin, and said, ’I want to get for this ten pounds of sugar, and some flour and cloth,’ adding, ’I am not like other Indians, I want to pay for what I get.’  Mr. B. found that he must either be robbed of all he had by submitting to these exactions, or take a stand at once.  He thought, however, he would try to avoid a scrape, and told his customer he had not so much sugar to spare.  ’Give me, then,’ said he, ‘what you can spare’; and Mr. B., thinking to make him back out, told him he would, give him five pounds of sugar for his skin.  ‘Take it,’ said the Indian.  He left the skin, telling Mr. B. to take good care of it.  Mr. B. took it at once to the trader’s store, and related the circumstance, congratulating himself that he had got rid of the Indian’s exactions.  But in about a month Key-way-no-wut appeared, bringing some dirty Indian sugar, and said, ’I have brought back the sugar that I borrowed of you, and I want my otter-skin back.’  Mr. B. told him, ’I bought an otter-skin of you, but if you will return the other articles you have got for it, perhaps I can get it for you.’  ‘Where is the skin?’ said he very quickly; ’what have you done with it?’ Mr. B. replied it was in the trader’s store, where he (the Indian) could not get it.  At this information he was furious, laid his hands on his knife and tomahawk, and commanded Mr. B. to bring it at once.  Mr. B. found this was the crisis, where he must take a stand or be ‘rode over rough-shod’ by this man.  His wife, who was present was much alarmed, and begged he would get the skin for the Indian, but he told her that ’either he or the Indian would soon be master of his house, and if she was afraid to see it decided which was to be so, she had better retire,’ He turned to Key-way-no-wut, and addressed him in a stern voice as follows:  ’I will not give you the skin.  How often have you come to my house, and I have shared with you what I had.  I gave you tobacco when you were well, and medicine when you were sick, and you never went away from my wigwam with your hands empty.  And this is the way you return my treatment to you.  I had thought you