“You sound, sir,” said Steven, forgetting caution in a sudden rage against this man, “as though it were the amount only that deterred you; the number of skins only that you were regretting!” “Mind your own business and I’ll tend to mine,” replied Bragdon, harshly. “We’re white, ain’t we?” “I beg your pardon,” Steven replied, stiffly. Yet he could not, for all that, get over the feeling that Bragdon’s fingers itched for the furs or more like them. Hope was feeding Doren some of the ground Indian meal prepared by the Pawnee girl, and smiled shyly at Steven as he passed, “as though she really had something to be grateful for, poor child,” he thought, and was touched, for it was the first time that he had seen her act naturally, without a stiff reserve when anything was done for her. He found the three traders taking coffee, bacon, pan bread, and fried Indian mush at the table in the big room, and joined them. The trading was to begin shortly, and already a crowd of Indians was gathered outside the rear door of the establishment. It was Colonel Bent’s custom to deal thus, spreading his wares before the door, and permitting no one to come inside but the chiefs. By mid-morning the trading was well under way. Colonel Bent was exchanging only a portion of the goods which St. Vrain had brought with him and the balance of what he himself had transported over the Trail a few weeks earlier. The independent traders who had been in St. Vrain’s train, and those whom he had rescued, were at liberty to dispose of anything they did not wish to reserve for the Santa Fe trade. Steven was amazed to see buffalo robes, beautifully cured and sometimes bound, sold for one dollar. Even on the plains they brought a dollar and a half, while in the cities, where they were now very fashionable, they were sold for not less than thirty-five dollars. The Indians brought forward their pelts, the lustrous silver fox, rich mink, and beaver, otter, deer, and golden tawny cat of the mountains, the lynx, the white and prairie wolves full plumed. Beside the silky little prairie fox lay antelope and buffalo, and the striped panther of the Rockies shone beside the pelts of grizzly and cinnamon bear. The red man spread his furs upon the ground before himself and his horses, all of his wealth to be exchanged for the white man’s goods--flannel and beads, whisky and tobacco, sugar, whistles, mirrors, knives, or guns. The trade was on. Colonel Bent knew his Indians and could speak their tongues, but when one of a nation whose language he did not know came forward, the deal would be made through using a bundle of sticks to represent the goods.