Let something happen, some little thing--a migration of game, a case of measles.

The Indians will die if there are not white men near to help them.

That's why Josephine makes me buy fur." He pointed to the wall behind Philip.

Over the door through which they had just come hung a huge, old-fashioned flint-lock six feet in length.
There was something like the snarl of an animal in John Adare's voice when he spoke again.
"That's the tool of the Northland," he said.

"That is the only tool John the Trapper knows, all he can know in a land where even trees are stunted and there are no plows.