ACROSS THE JUMPING SANDHILLS

“HERE NOW, TRADER; AISY, AISY! Quicksands I’ve seen along the sayshore, and up to me half-ways I’ve been in wan, wid a double-and-twist in the rope to pull me out; but a suckin’ sand in the open plain—aw, Trader, aw! the like o’ that niver a bit saw I.”

So said Macavoy the giant, when the thing was talked of in his presence.

“Well, I tell you it’s true, and they’re not three miles from Fort O’Glory. The Company’s—[Hudson’s Bay Company]—men don’t talk about it—what’s the use! Travellers are few that way, and you can’t get the Indians within miles of them. Pretty Pierre knows all about them—better than anyone else almost. He’ll stand by me in it—eh, Pierre?”

Pierre, the half-breed gambler and adventurer, took no notice, and was silent for a time, intent on his cigarette; and in the pause Mowley the trapper said: “Pierre’s gone back on you, Trader. P’r’aps ye haven’t paid hi