194 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES 



In all the quarrels and mutinies, old Weeso had been 

 faithful to me. Freesay had said little or nothing, 

 and had always worked well and cheerfully. Weeso 

 was old and weak, Freesay young and strong, and 

 therefore he was the one for our canoe. I decided it 

 would pay to subsidise Weeso to resign in favour of 

 the younger man. But, to be sure, first asked Freesay 

 if he would like to come with me to the land of the 

 Musk-ox. His answer was short and final, "Yes," but 

 he could not, as his uncle had told him not to go be- 

 yond this portage. That settled it. The childlike 

 obedience to their elders is admirable, but embarrass- 

 ing at times. 



So Weeso went after all, and we got very well ac- 

 quainted on that long trip. He was a nice old chap. 

 He always meant well; grinned so happily when he 

 was praised, and looked so glum when he was scolded. 

 There was little of the latter to do; so far as he knew, 

 he did his best, and it is a pleasure now to conjure up 

 his face and ways. His cheery voice, at my tent door 

 every morning, was the signal that Billy had the 

 breakfast within ten minutes of ready. 



"Okimow, To" (Chief, here is water), he would say 

 as he set down the water for my bath and wondered 

 what in the name of common sense should make the 

 Okimow need washing every morning. He himself 

 was of a cleaner kind, having needed no bath during 

 the whole term of our acquaintance. 



There were two peculiarities of the old man that 

 should make him a good guide for the next party going 

 northward. First, he never forgot a place once he 



