"
Before another hour had passed the Stonies reappeared, this time on
ponies. The trader made no move to meet them. He sat quietly smoking by
the fire. Silently the Indians approached the fire and threw down a pack
of furs.
"Huh!" said White Cloud. "Good! Ver good!" He opened his pack and spread
out upon the rock with impressive deliberation its contents. And good
they were, even to Cameron's uncultured eye. Wolf skins and bear,
cinnamon and black, beaver, fox, and mink, as well as some magnificent
specimens of mountain goat and sheep. "Good! Good! Big--fine--heap
good!" White Cloud continued to exclaim as he displayed his collection.
Raven turned them over carelessly, feeling the furs, examining and
weighing the pelts. Then going to the pack horse he returned and spread
out upon the rock beside the furs the goods which he proposed to offer
in exchange. And a pitiful display it was, gaudy calicoes and flimsy
flannels, the brilliance of whose colour was only equalled by the
shoddiness of the material, cheap domestic blankets, half wool half
cotton, prepared especially for the Indian trade. These, with beads and
buttons, trinkets, whole strings of brass rings, rolls of tobacco, bags
of shot and powder, pot metal knives, and other articles, all bearing
the stamp of glittering fraud, constituted his stock for barter.
Pages:
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410