84 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES 



eruptions in a desert of dead lava, and in husky, click- 

 ing accents he told Billy to tell the Okimow that the 

 pills were no good — not strong enough for him. 



"Well," I said, "he shall surely have results this 

 time." I gave him three big ones in a cup of hot tea. 

 All the Indians love tea, and it seems to help them. 

 Under its cheering power the old man's tongue was 

 loosened. He talked more clearly, and Billy, whose 

 knowledge of Chipewyan is fragmentary at best, sud- 

 denly said: 



"I'm afraid I made a mistake. Bezkya says the pills 

 are too strong. Can't you give him something to stop 

 them?" 



"Goodness," I thought; "here's a predicament," but 

 I didn't know what to do. I remembered a western 

 adage, "When you don't know a thing to do, don't do 

 a thing." I only said: "Tell Bezkya to go home, go to 

 bed, and stay there till to-morrow, then come here 

 again." 



Away went the Indian to his lodge. I felt rather 

 uneasy that day and night, and the next morning 

 looked with some eagerness for the return of Bezkya. 

 But he did not come and I began to grow unhappy. I 

 wanted some evidence that I had not done him an in- 

 jury. I wished to see him, but professional etiquette 

 forbade me betraying myself by calling on him. Noon 

 came and no Bezkya; late afternoon, and then I sallied 

 forth, not to seek him, but to pass near his lodge, as 

 though I were going to the Hudson's Bay store. And 

 there, to my horror, about the lodge I saw a group of 

 squaws, with shawls over their heads, whispering to- 



