MEETING OF THE WILD MEN 193 



beyond recovery. Packeteers have been drowned, frozen, 

 burned, shot, smothered, and even eaten; but the packet has 

 always reached its destination somehow." 



BEAR HOLDS UP MAIL 



A sudden burst of laughter from the men at a neighbouring 

 fire attracted the attention of Chief Factor Thompson, and 

 glancing over, he remarked to me: 



"Telling yarns, eh! Let's go over and listen." 



Twelve or fifteen men were crowded round that fire — in- 

 cluding Factor Mackenzie, the Rev. Mr. Wilson, Father Jois, 

 and Oo-koo-hoo — and they were now coaxing "Old Billy 

 Brass" to tell the next story. He was a wiry little white man 

 of about sixty who had seen much service in the Hudson's Bay 

 Company. He hesitated. They clamoured again, and he 

 began: 



"But talkin' 'bout bears reminds me of a little affair I once 

 had on the Peace River," said the old man, glancing slyly from 

 the corner of his eye to see what effect his statement made 

 upon his campfire companions. Billy was sitting cross-legged 

 upon his caribou robe; and, as he turned the browning bannocks 

 before the fire, he continued : 



"Well, as I was sayin', me an' Old-pot-head's son once had 

 a go with a great big black bear away up on the Peace River. 

 But, don't you forget it, Billy Brass didn't lose the packet." 



"Come, Billy, tell us all about it," coaxed the Chief Factor, 

 well knowing that if he were once started there would be on his 

 part little need of urging in order to extract from the old tripper 

 all he knew, or could invent to suit the occasion. 



"Well, gentlemen, if you ain't too sleepy, an' if some o' 

 you boys'll watch the bannock, I don't mind tellin'," replied 

 Billy as he leaned toward the fire, picked up a red-hot coal, 

 and palmed it into his pipe. 



