290 THE DRAMA OF THE FORESTS 



plans. He had already invited all the Indians at the Post to 

 the ceremony. Great preparations were being made. If 

 the wedding were put off even a single day, everybody would be 

 curious to know why; and sooner or later it would be known 

 that he had had to bow to the will of the priest. The thought 

 rankled. So he went to the Factor and told him the whole 

 affair. 



"Ma brither," said the Factor, "we are auld freens; it is 

 weel that we shud staun' thegither. If ye will trade a' yir furs 

 wi' me this day, I'll get the meenister o' the Presybyterian 

 Kirk tae mairry yir gran'dochter. He'll be gled eneuch tae 

 gi'e Father Jois a clour by mairryin' twa o' his fowk. Sell me 

 yir furs, an' I'll warrant ye ye'll hae the laff on Father Jois." 



MISSIONARIES AND INDIANS 



That settled it. Factor Mackenzie got all the furs Oo-koo- 

 hoo and his family possessed. The Factor and the hunter 

 were now the best of friends, and they even went so far as to 

 exchange presents — and that's going some . . . for a 

 Scotsman. 



Should the foregoing amuse the Protestant reader, the follow- 

 ing may be of interest to the Roman Catholic. One winter, 

 while halting at a certain Hudson's Bay post, I met a Protestant 

 clergyman, who having spent a number of years as a missionary 

 among the natives on the coast of Hudson Bay excited my 

 interest as to his work among the Indians. That night, after 

 supper, I questioned him as to his spiritual work among the 

 "barbarians" of the forest, and in the presence of the Hud- 

 son's Bay trader, he turned to me and, with the air of being 

 intensely bored by the subject, he replied: "Mr. Heming . . . 

 the only interest I ever take in the Indian ... is when I 

 bury him." 



But while I have cited two types of clergymen I have known 



