" map lie!"
The old Ojibway turned from the slab counter of the trade-house at Jackfish Lake, a lean forefinger still resting on the engineer's map of a section of the preliminary survey for the new Transcontinental Railroad. There was a glitter in his black eyes as they met the surprised gaze of McDuff, the Scotch engineer.
"What d'you mean, David?" queried Cameron, the factor, peering over the Ojibway's shoulder at the map spread before them.
"All dees lak'," replied the old Indian, pointing to a chain of lakes along the shores of which ran a trial line for the contemplated Right-of-Way, "lie two—tree day travel to de sunset from de Flaming Riviere. Dey not flow dees way; beeg heel shut dat valley from de riviere." The speaker indicated with his finger.
"De man who mak' map; I know how he travel," the Ojibway continued. "De freezing moon was near; he was starve an' in great hurry, an' he listen to half-breed. He mak' bad map, for de half-breed lie."
The Indian drew a long breath as his narrowed eyes bored into the engineer's questioning gaze.
"You know this country pretty well, David?"
The Ojibway straightened to his full six feet. A flicker of a smile played at the corners of his set mouth.
"Many snows I hunt dat country. My fader hunt dat country, an' hees fader, I know eet lak' I know my tepee out dere on de lak' shore."
"There ain't a lake or hill in the Kabenakagami country that David don't know," broke in the factor. "He was born there and his ancestors were born there and hunted it. You can depend on what David tells you about the Kabenakagami and Flaming River country."
The eyes of the old Ojibway softened.
"Well, the man who made this flying survey knows his business," grunted McDuff to John Gordon, his assistant, "but if he was close to the freeze-up and had to get out in a hurry, he may have guessed at these lakes flowing into the Flaming River, when he worked up his notes with the topographer. The Agricultural Survey sure made a mess of their western Ontario map, but they hardly made a compass survey and plotted a great deal by hearsay."
"I should say so," nodded Cameron; "the man who follows the Nepigon Trail to the Albany with that map will sure leave his bones in the bush. It don't show half the network of lakes you travel through, and water running two ways out of 'em at that."
The government engineer turned to old David, who had been an interested listener.
"David, I want you and your sons as guides until the freeze-up. Will you come with us?"
"To-morrow I tell you." And the erect figure of the treaty-chief of the Kabenakagami Ojibways disappeared through the door.
Later McDuff and Gordon sat smoking after-supper pipes in the factor's quarters.
"There's no doubt in your mind, Cameron, that old David is the best man you've got for our business?" asked McDuff.
"There are others trading at this post who trap the Kabenakagami country above and below David's hunting-grounds, but if your map is correct the preliminary survey runs through the country he has travelled all his life. He's the man you want and he's he most intelligent Indian that trades at this post. That's why he's treaty-chief."
"I guess you're right, but it don't seem possible that Stevens could have made such a bull on the Flaming River survey. Why, it may mean running a new line thirty or forty miles."
"I don't care," maintained the factor. "If David says your map is off, you can gamble your life that it is."
"Well, we've got to go and find out."
Down on the lake shore across the post clearing where already stood scattered tepees of Ojibways in for the spring trade, the occasional laugh of an Indian girl or yelp of a husky dog alone broke the hush of the June twilight. Each day, now, from north and cast and west, would bring to the post the canoes of fur-hunters, freighted with noisy cargoes of children and dogs, and the winter catch of pelts. Soon the trade-house would swarm with swarthy trappers, red-man and half-breed, bartering fox and mink, lynx and otter, for powder, flour, and cloth, or lounging about, smoking Company niggerhead as they gossiped of winter camps and winter trails in the silent places.