"Didn't Father John tell you? Every year they go up into Canada to get their presents from the British. Damn the British!" he added, with unnecessary emphasis.
"Oh," said Robert, thoughtfully. "In case of trouble, then, the Indians are on their side."
"Exactly. Quite a scheme, isn't it?"
"It's a devilish scheme!"
"Be careful," warned Mackenzie, "some of 'em understand more English than they let on."
The trading fever rapidly spread to the squaws. Those who were not bringing furs for exchange and carrying provisions back to the camp offered moccasins and baskets for sale. Mackenzie shook his head—he had no use for anything but the skins.
Under cover of the excitement, much petty thieving was going on, and it was necessary to keep close watch of the peltries, lest they be exchanged again. The squaws kept keen eyes on the counters, making off with anything desirable which was left unguarded. Chandonnais took a place at the door, finally, to call a halt upon illegal enterprises.
Without the least knowledge of why he did it, Robert bought a pair of moccasins. They were small, even for a woman's foot, and heavy with beads. The dainty things appealed to him, suddenly and irresistibly, and the price he paid for them brought other squaws, with countless moccasins.
"Uncle John," he shouted above the clamour, "please tell them I don't want any more moccasins!"