Michel, proud of his part in so successful a winter and in having bearded the demons of the Salmon in their dens and lived to tell the tale, blushed at the memory of the snowy owl.
"This is the largest catch of fur traded in my time at Whale River, Jean," said Gillies. "What are you going to do with all your credit? You can't use it on yourself; you'll have to get married and build a shack here."
Blood darkened the bronzed face, but Marcel made no reply.
He had indeed wrung a handsome toll from the haunted hills, which, tabooed by Cree trappers for generations, were tracked by the padded feet of countless fur-bearers. After allowing Michel a generous interest in the fur, Marcel found that he had increased his credit at the post by over two thousand dollars, giving him in all a trade credit of twenty-six hundred dollars with the Company. He could in truth afford to marry and build a shack if he were made a Company servant, but the girl——Then he heard Gillies' voice.
"Jean, I want you and Angus to go up to the Komaluk Islands with a York boat. The whalers are getting the Husky trade which we ought to have. They will ruin them with whiskey."
"Ver' well, M'sieu!"
Marcel drew a breath of relief. If she were not already married, he would be only too glad to go north—to be spared seeing Julie Breton made the wife of Wallace. Then, at last, Jules appeared.
After the customary hug, Jean drew the big head man outside, demanding in French:
"Is she here still? They were not married at Christmas? When do they marry?"
Jules shook his head. "A letter came by the Christmas mail. By the Company he was ordered at once to Winnipeg. He is there now and will not come this summer."