186 MEN I HAVE FISHED WITH. 



cross to my side within easy shot. There was a buck and 

 two does. As they came out of the water I dropped the 

 buck, and like an echo of my shot one of the does fell. 

 Henry took off his clothes, and swam over and found me 

 talking with a man about fifty years old, who had killed 

 the doe. He proved to be a French-Canadian named 

 Antoine Gardapee, with whom I struck up a friendship 

 which will be related "in our next." He was a trapper, 

 and like my old friend, Port Tyler, was a "character." 

 We dressed our deer, and Henry and I swam the river 

 with it and took turns with the heavy saddle wrapped in 

 the skin and the lighter forequarters. 



Gardapee came to town with us and sold his veni- 

 son. In those days many men threw away the fore- 

 quarters of a deer. I asked Antoine to come to my 

 house for dinner and he did, but he insisted that a rib 

 chop out of a fat deer was the best portion, and we had 

 them broiled. He was right, and to-day I follow his ad- 

 vice when venison is in season and buy rib chops. He 

 took a fancy to me because our tastes were in common 

 and I had education enough to write his letters to his 

 friends, and would talk to him on subjects in which he 

 was interested. I looked up to him as a combined Port 

 Tyler and Natty Bumpo rolled into one. It was a sort 

 of love at first sight, or like that of Desdemona for 

 Othello, of which he says: 



"She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd; 

 And I lov'd her that she did pity them." 



Henry had that sense of humor which often accom- 

 panies a poetic temperament and permits one to both 

 enjoy a sentiment and to burlesque it at the same time. 

 This is a possibility unknown to solemn souls who think 

 burlesque or travesty irreverent or disrespectful, which 



