“A runner of the Saulteurs, resting in the lodges of the Assiniboines, has told Quamenoka of their strange customs, their hardness, and their shut forts guarded with suspicion and sentinelled with fear.”

He ceased a moment and smoked in silence.

No breath of sound broke the stillness, for this was ceremony and of great dignity.

Only McElroy was acutely conscious of the figure in the doorway and the peering face of the girl, so full of hushed intensity.

“Also do we bring word of a great tribe, the Nakonkirhirinons, living far beyond the River Oujuragatchousibi, who this year journey down to Fort de Seviere with many furs,—­more than all that will come from the Assiniboines, the Crees, the Ojibways, and the Migichihilinons put together.

“Past York and Churchill on the Great Bay they come, because of unfair dealings which met them at those places last year and the year before, down to the country of the Assiniboines, in whose lodges they will eat the great feast of the Peace Dance.  Not long have the Nakonkirhirinons traded their furs, living to themselves in their hills, and much credit is due Quamenoka by whose word they come this year to his brothers on the Assiniboine.”

The chief paused impressively and raised his glance to the factor’s face.

McElroy nodded.

“Greatly does the heart of thy brother rejoice at such word, and a present over and above that meant for him shall be given Quamenoka.  Let the talk go on.  We listen.”

But before the chief could speak again, Edmonton Ridgar had broken silence: 

“Negansahima is chief of that tribe and my Indian father, he having adopted me with all ceremony once when I sojourned a year among them.  The sight of him will gladden my spirit.”

Swift surprise spread on the factor’s face, but he did not speak.  There was much in the checkered life of his friend that had not been set before him, and each revelation was full to the brim of romance, of daring, and of that excitement which attends a life spent in the wilderness.

The Indian nodded and went on: 

“And last of the news of forest and lake and river is word of the meeting of canoes, the half of one-ten, laden with goods and going up the river, which passed but few suns back.  A sun-man sat in the first, beautiful of face and with hair like light, who strove to barter.  But the Assiniboines come to their brothers.  They heeded not his words, though they were sweet with promise.  I have spoken.”

The chief fell silent, for the year had been told, and McElroy spoke presently of his joy at their presence, their words, and their friendship, as was the custom of the H. B. Company’s factors on such occasions; and Ridgar rose from the council to bid a young clerk, one Gifford, bring forth the presents for the guests,—­a coat with coarse white lace and lining of vermilion, a hat of felt and a sash of many colours for Quamenoka, and lesser glories for his four headmen.  These presented with due formality, and actually donned by the recipients without loss of time, the ceremony of the opening council was over, save for the triumphal march of the potentate, accompanied by McElroy and Ridgar, back to the camp on the river bank.