Adventure Magazine Cover, April 3, 1918 — page 35: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Ambush “Then to the Dowl wi’ the Free-Traders and the Northwesters alike!” cried Hampton belligerently. ‘Our own territory be given us by old charter. Us comed out here under our company’s flag, an’ we ban’t going to see un fall, [can assure’e. You’m counting on we, I reckon, Factor, to hold un feet while you’m breaking un heads ope.” “That’s it, Hampton,” laughed Carlisle. “You five men must hold my lines of com- munication. That’s why I brought you in. Our posts in the Norway House and York Districts have complete control. That makes everything safe from Lake Winnipeg to Hudson’s Bay, but between here and Lake Winnipeg you must hold the lines as I say. “Galt and Drummond I keep by me, of course. Lea goes to the Nepowin, Lewis to the Pas, Garry to Moose Lake, Hampton to Chimawawin, Jarvis to Grand Rapids. You will keep your territory clear of interlopers, pay any price to get its trade and await further orders from me. “The Summer ship from England will reach James Bay any day now, and the moment she arrives York boats are coming up the Hayes River from York Factory with reserve supplies of food and trade goods. You will hold these boats in relays at Grand Rapids, Chimawawin and the Pas until I send for them. That’s all, men. You start at once. Galt and Drummond will pick you out small canoes, outfits and paddlers.” IN IN FIVE minutes the fleet was (es) afloat. No man other than those = Carlisle had addressed had been told its mission or its destination, but conjecture ran rife through Cumberland House. The whites hazarded shrewd guesses concerning the Factor’s plans, while the Indian tribes herded on the shore, jabbering and pointing at the canoes till they disappeared. From the doorway of Galt’s trading-room Carlisle watched them go, and he had no misgivings as he watched. He knew his men, their abilities, limita- tions, merits and demerits as he knew his own, and even after they were gone he saw them still on his mental vision—Garry, the man of Inverness with his short, broad body, flaming red beard and whimsical face; Lea, the Cromarty youth with the brown hand- someness of the tall, young Highlander; Hampton, ruddy, fleshy, with his atmos- 33 phere of the freshly-turned peat soil and his Devon speech; Jarvis, a bunch of wires and nerves reeling off his Cockney slang; and Lewis, aged, mountainous-framed, gray- haired and gray-bearded, craggy-featured as the Hebrides he hailed from. They were all picked men, tried in the Company’s service. Carlisle had chosen them out of many on the Bay, and he knew they would not fail him. Wells, the South- of-England stripling he had chosen for a different kind of work, that of secret service, and him he now sent out in another direc- tion. His destination was the Seepanock Chan- nel, a ‘short water lane connecting the Saskatchewan and its tributary the Carrot where they flowed almost parallel for a space. His mission was to establish a Winter camp there and scout along it to prevent the possible attempt of down-com- ing brigades of rival traders to avoid Pine Island Lake and reach the Saskatchewan again far to the east of it. As the crowd on the shore broke up with the passing of the canoes, Carlisle wheeled back to Galt’s counter. ‘“‘Let me see your day-book, Galt,” he requested. He turned up the last entered page, the page of recent trade and scanned the entries with a practised eye. Upon the yellow leaves of the well- thumbed book the entries ran thus: Son-of-the-Stars 10 beaver........ 10 skins ($5.00) Amiska ........ 5 sku 2 skins ($1.00) 1OME ik 1 skin ($0.50) 2 QUEES fois. = 8 skins ($4.00) Makwa........ 1 prime red fox.... 6 skins ($3.00) 1 cross do. ...... 7 skins ($3.50) 1 black do....... 12 skins ($6.00) The unit value was a beaver skin, chosen as something concrete that the Indian mind could comprehend in default of mathematics and currency tokens, and though the unit fluctuated in value with different posts it was worth, on the average, fifty cents. To the Indian his more valuable pelts were simply his beaver skin multiplied as many times as the post trader decreed. In the entries Carlisle gazed upon he found few of the costlier skins, in fact few of any kind of skins, and he knew the reason. These were but the feelers, the first light skins of barter. Ever slow to bargain and anx- ious to obtain the greatest price for their COnnicloookxs (C@