"I never dreamed of meeting you here," he said, "or I should have had a sumptuous repast ready. Fortunately I happen to have a tempting bit of beaver tail, which is considered a great delicacy to Nor'westers." George Morrison was not slow to observe that Chrissy's face had an expression of sadness in it that he had never seen before. "You seem melancholy and dispirited. What is on your mind, Chrissy?" he asked. "I have been passing through a great trial," she responded, with quivering lips, "and I vowed a solemn vow when I thought that all hope of saving mother was gone, that if God would give her back, I would devote my whole life entirely and unreservedly to His service, even though it involved the severance of every earthly tie." Phil, who never felt more ill at ease, more unresponsive, than when compelled to listen to a conversation which touched upon sacred themes, which were entirely beyond the range of his comprehension, quietly withdrew from the tent and strolled out to the fire, where a number of strange figures lay in the shadow of the dusky cliff. French voyageurs and coureurs des bois, white trappers and Indians, in a variety of lazy attitudes, reclined on buffalo robes and bearskins. Most of them, with bleared eye and bloated face, were puffing away at their pipes. Some had red handkerchiefs round their heads holding back their long black hair. Some wore buckskin smocks, fringed with bright colors and drawn tight at the waist by sashes of brilliant hue, with trousers of the same material with little bells fastened from knee to ankle. "They're a' guid canoemen," said an old Scotchman, who had been for many years factor at one of the trading-stations, and who was en route to Moose Factory. "You should juist see them at wark. They wadna think twice o' takin' a canoe ower the Big Kettle yonner at this time o' the year. Whan they are in ony danger they faa' down on their knees an' caa' on the Virgin an' a' the holy angels tae save them, an' as sune as it is gane by they deny the verra exeestence o' Virgin or angels aither, an' sweer like troopers. The Government regairds them as kin' o' ne'er-do-weels' an' ootcasts. When they gang back tae ceevilization they spen' a' they've made in the fur trade on their claes an' in drucken bouts. As lang as their beaver-skins last they set nae bouns tae their riot. Mon, I've seen some o' thae verra men staulkin' thrae the streets o' Montreal as nakit as a Sioux. Tho' they're sic bauld dare-deevils they are verra usfu' tae oor company, for they gang hunners and hunners o' miles throu the leemitless maze o' lakes an' rivers in the far North in sairch o' furs. They dinna fear aither Iroquois nor Algonquins, Cree nor Sioux." "He must have a lot of nerve," said Phil, pointing to the tent, "to place himself at the head of a crowd like that. I hope that he and you may never fall victims to the treachery of such a crew."