CHARLES MOREAU 331 



press his gratitude. Alas! poor fellow! he was 

 bound to be drowned. Two years later, one fine 

 and calm morning in May, he was out ducking in 

 a bark canoe. The same young lad was with him, 

 a son of William Jordan, the poacher. They 

 were off Pointe des Monts lighthouse, about a 

 quarter of a mile from shore. They fired a good 

 many shots, and Mr. Ferd. Fafard, sr., who was 

 then the lighthouse keeper, watched them for a 

 long time through his telescope while they were 

 shooting. The last time he saw them they were 

 apparently chasing a wounded bird. Having 

 something to attend to he entered the lighthouse, 

 hearing a shot as he went in. A few minutes 

 afterwards he returned and was rather surprised 

 that the canoe was not in sight. He looked 

 around carefully, but could see nothing. He then 

 presumed that he had been away longer than he 

 thought and that the canoe had gone ashore in 

 one of the several little bays in the vicinity. 

 They had gone out early in the morning. About 

 one o'clock in the afternoon, seeing they did not 

 return, old Gabriel got anxious about his adopted 

 son. So he went to the lighthouse where he 

 thought he might possibly be. He was then in- 

 formed by Mr. Fafard of what he had seen, and 

 it was thought that he might have gone to 

 Trinity Bay, six miles east, for some goods or 

 ammunition, as a store was then kept there to 

 which they often went. Night came, however, 



