"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.

"But I can't give a funny bear story, the same as you've been tellin',
because all my experiences with bears have been mighty serious.
However, I'll try and tell you 'bout me an Old-pot-head's son; an' to
my mind it's the most serious of 'em all.

"As I was sayin', we was in charge of the Peace River packet; an' if it
hadn't been for the charm Father La Mille blessed for me at Fort Good
Hope, I don't know 's I'd be here to tell about it.

"Anyway, me an' Old-pot-head's son was carryin' the packet and headin'