ANTOINE GARDAPEE. 247 



you'll t'ink da ole Frenchman got no game an' he no 

 stan j da gaff.* Come on; I'll be all a-ready." And he 

 lay on the floor in the proper place. His nerve gave me 

 confidence, and again I put the plug in his mouth, braced 

 my back against the logs and my moccasins on his 

 shoulders. Carefully pushing the "pullicans" down as 

 far as I could get them, I gripped the handles, straight- 

 ened my legs, and with a snap the tooth came out and my 

 head made a tunk on the log behind that seemed hard 

 enough to have left a dent in either head or log. An- 

 toine jumped up and yelled with joy. He took the tooth 

 and threw it in the fire, saying a verse in his French 

 patois which I did not understand, and after a comfort- 

 ing pipe we went to bed. 



Spring came. The melting snows filled the streams. 

 The drumming call of the woodpeckers on a dead tree 

 sounded frequently, and the thunder of the cock par- 

 tridge or ruffed grouse was frequent. Ducks flew up 

 and down the stream, and the snow in places was not a 

 foot deep. Antoine said: "I'll tole you. Wen you go 

 on you' line it's las' time to-morrer, an' you bring in all-a 

 steel trap an' let down all-a dead-fall. Da fur he get 

 loose an' begin to shed, an' it's no use to stay here longer 

 w'en you no get da prime skin. We go home. I t'ink; 

 yes?" 



I ran my line for the last time, and came in and packed 

 up for the home trip. Our packs were arranged, and 

 were not as heavy as on the up trip. The provisions- 

 were about gone, and the furs were dry and light, so we 

 only had to make two trips instead of four from our cabin 

 to the boat. 



*The expression "stand the gaff" was a relic of Antoine'9 cock-fight- 

 ing days in Canada, and when he wished to imply that,a man had no grit 

 he would say, ""He notan' da, gaff." 



