266 NEWFOUNDLAND 



as he would be done by. If there were more pioneers in our 

 colonies of the stamp of Mr. Leslie and Philip Ryan, we should 

 not hear so much of the treachery of the savage races, nor 

 the quarrels of the native and incoming white man, for the 

 deceit and sharp practice of traders always bring in its train 

 the bottle and the white man's curse. To give an instance 

 of Mr. Ryan's methods, it is enough to say that whenever 

 he is absent from home, the key of his house is left under 

 the door for any wandering Indian to find. The traveller may 

 open and help himself to what he likes, taking flour, sugar, 

 bacon, and tobacco. He lights a fire, stops in the house as 

 long as he likes, and may not be there for another year ; and 

 yet the owner never loses so much as a darning-needle, nor 

 does the Indian fail to render to him an accurate account of 

 the things he has taken, and to pay for them in the skins of 

 foxes and otters. I wonder in how many Hudson Bay stores 

 such a state of things would be possible, and yet the managers 

 of these posts have only themselves to blame for the loss of 

 confidence. 



Ryan's temperament is of the mercurial Irish variety un- 

 dulled by the lapse of years ; he is sixty, and the hard knocks 

 of life, of which he has had more than his full share, have not 

 impaired his joyous disposition. His strength and activity 

 are extraordinary. It was blowing a good breeze. " Here, " 

 he shouted one day, as we were returning to Belleoram, 

 "climb up to the top of that, and we'll hoist the flag of the 

 Cariboo." Steve looked up sadly to the thin and swaying 

 topmast, and mumbled something about not wishing to die 

 just then. "Matty" — to the other Indian — "you're a man; 

 shin up like a good chap." But Matty shook his head and 

 looked sheepish. 



" God bless my soul ! " ejaculated the old fellow, springing 



