February — A Snow-Storm, 57 



He stayed at the farm that night, and the boar was 

 carried on a rough litter to the house, where the Weasel 

 performed the office of butcher with a degree of skill 

 which gave clear evidence that the task was not new to 

 his experience. The next day I came to a decision, 

 and offered to take him into my employment as a 

 gamekeeper ; which he agreed to more readily than I 

 had expected, for his independent existence must have 

 been in many respects more agreeable to his tastes and 

 habits, and probably more lucrative also, though it was 

 likely enough that he would never entirely abandon his 

 private business as a braconnier y even after his engage- 

 ment in my service. I did not regret this decision after- 

 wards, for the Weasel was of the greatest use to us in 

 subsequent sylvan labors and explorations. He occu- 

 pied a vacant cottage in the Val Ste. Veronique, and 

 attached himself more particularly to the service of my 

 son. I was glad that Alexis, who wandered a great 

 deal in the forest from the beginning, should have such 

 a competent servant and guide. 



Although winter had come upon us late, the severity 

 of it was enough to make amends for its want of punc- 

 tuality. A tremendous snow-storm confined us to the 

 Val Ste. V6ronique ; .all the roads were impassable, and 

 the house was isolated from the world. But what do 

 we know of winter, what can any one know of it, in the 

 latitudes of the chestnut and the vine? Even where 

 the oak will not grow freely the winters are still sup- 

 portable, and wherever the yet hardier pine-tree can 

 bear the rigors of the long dark nights man lives 



