She ran ahead of him, and John Adare lifted his wife down from the tree when they joined them.  This time Josephine took her mother’s arm.  At the door to Adare House she turned to the two men, and said: 

“Mother and I have a great deal to talk over, and we are scheming not to see you again until dinner time.  Little Daddy, you can go to your foxes.  And please keep Philip out of mischief.”

The dogs had followed her close to the door.  As the men entered after Josephine and her mother, Philip paused for a moment to look at the pack.  A dozen of them had already settled themselves upon their bellies in the snow.

“The Grand Guard,” chuckled Adare, waiting for him.  “Come, Philip.  I’m going to follow Mignonne’s suggestion and do some work on my foxes.  Jean had a splendid surprise for me when I returned—­a magnificent black.  This is the dull season, when I can amuse myself only by writing and experimenting.  A little later, when the furs begin to come in, there will be plenty of life at Adare House.”

“Do you buy many furs?” asked Philip.

“Yes.  But not because I am in the business for money.  Josephine got me into it because of her love for the forest people.”  He led the way into his big study; and added, as he threw off his cap and coat: 

“You know in all the world no people have a harder struggle than these men, women, and little children of the trap-lines.  From Labrador westward to the Mackenzie it is the land of the caribou, the rabbit, and the fur-bearing animals, but the land is not suitable for farming.  It has been, it will always be, the country of the hunter.

“To the south the Ojibway may grow a little corn and wheat.  To the north the Eskimo might seem to dwell in a more barren land, but not so, for he has an ever abundant supply of game from the sea, seal in winter, fish in summer, but here are only the rabbit, the caribou, and small game.  The Indians would starve if they could not trade their furs for a little flour, traps, guns, and cloth to fight the cold and aid the hunter.  Even then it is hard.  The Indians cannot live in villages, except at a post, like Adare House.  Such a large number of people living in one spot could not feed themselves, and in the winter each family goes to its own allotted hunting grounds.  From father to son for generations the same district has been handed down, each territory rich enough in fur to support one family.  One—­not two, for two would starve, and if a strange trapper poaches the fight is to the death, even in the normal year when game is plentiful and fur prime.