56 NEWFOUNDLAND 



character of this wild creature, he volunteered yet another 

 excellent tale. 



" Ever hear that old Newfun'lan' yarn o' Stephe and the 

 two 'sports'? No? Well, ye know you can't lose an Indian 

 even supposin' ye put him down blin'fold in the centre o' 

 the island and tell him to make fer St. John's, and what's 

 more, they don't like to be told they may be going faulty 

 or there's apt to be trouble. We'll, one fall, after he'd nearly 

 killed de Bonava' man, Stephe takes in two townies to hunt. 

 Disremember their names, but we'll call 'em Johnny and 

 George. Johnny stays in camp one day, and Stephe goes 

 off wi' George fer to find a deer. They reeves around all 

 day now in de woods, now on de meshes, till by nightfall 

 George gets uncomfortable and doesn't know where he is, 

 and is precious sure the Indian don't know either, cos our 

 woods is tough, as you know. By-and-by Stephe sits down 

 to light a fire. 



"'Guess we're lost,' ses George. 



"'Oh no,' says Stephe, lookin' up, kind o' sour. 'Indian 

 not lost, Indian never lost; Camp and Johnny lost.'" 



"That's good, Bob! Where's Stephe now?" I said. 



" Dead. Dead six winters ago. De woods and — er — 

 other things done fer him, as it does fer all of us in time. 

 He was haulin' a deer 'long de ice o' George's Pond when 

 he slip up and cracked his skull. He got home to de Bay, 

 but died a few weeks after. A' seen 'un just 'fore he goes, 

 an' he say to me, ' Saunders, whisky's bad fer haulin' deer.' " 



