It was not love of gain for its own sake that drew the free trappers into the wilderness. To them a pack of beaver skins was a mere gambler's stake, to be squandered riotously after the fashion of Jack ashore. What did compel them to a life of endless wandering and extreme hazard was the sheer lust of adventure, and a passion for that absolute, irresponsible freedom that can be enjoyed only in a state of nature. Never in our history have there been pioneers who took greater risks than they, or endured harsher vicissitudes, or severed themselves so completely from the civilization in which they were born. Nowhere, and at no time, have men of our race been thrown more upon their individual resources in unknown regions, and through periods of great peril, nor have there ever been characters more fitly developed to stand such strain. Cut off from the repressing and refining influences of civilization, forever warring with this Indian tribe and cohabiting with that, it was inevitable that most of these men should revert toward the status of white barbarians. And yet it would be a grave error, an injustice, to rate them with mere renegades and desperadoes. The trapper, whatever his faults, was still every inch a man. Bravest of the brave, yet cool and sagacious in the strategy of border war, capable in any emergency, faithful to his own code of honor, generous without limit to everyone but his foes, loyal to the death, frankly contemptuous of luxury and caste and affectation, imperial in his self-respect but granting equal rights to others, there was something heroic in this fierce and uncouth figure who dominated for a time the vast plains and mountains of the wild West. And it should not be forgotten that the early traders and trappers performed an indispensable service to their country that no other men of their time were able, or at least willing, to do: they were the explorers, the trail-makers, for western civilization.