"But, after all, what is a
bunch of furs more or less to those Indians?"
"Furs?" exclaimed Cameron in horror. "What are the lives of these men?"
"Oh," replied Raven carelessly, "these Indians are always getting killed
one way or another. It is all in the day's work with them. They pick
each other off without query or qualm. Besides, Little Thunder has
a grudge of very old standing against the Stonies, whom he heartily
despises, and he doubtless enjoys considerable satisfaction from the
thought that he has partially paid it. It will be his turn next, like
as not, for they won't let this thing sleep. Or perhaps mine!" he added
after a pause. "The man is doubtless on the trail at this present minute
who will finally get me."
"Then why expose yourself to such a fate?" said Cameron. "Surely in this
country a man can live an honest life and prosper."
"Honest life? I doubt it! What is an honest life? Does any Indian trader
lead an honest life? Do the Hudson Bay traders, or I. G. Baker's people,
or any of them do the honest thing by the Indian they trade with? In
the long run it is a question of the police. What escapes the police is
honest. The crime, after all, is in getting caught."
"Oh, that is too old!" said Cameron. "You know you are talking rot."
"Quite right! It is rot," assented Raven.
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