244 



RECREATION 



Detanges took upon himself the self- 

 appointed task of cook, while Andre 

 did his share in kindling the fire, cut- 

 ting the wood, and other small duties. 

 The latter also showed in many little 

 ways his gratitude toward the former 

 for his kind deed. 



After breakfast, they would sit smok- 

 ing their pipes and talk. When the 

 bowls had been twice emptied, taking 

 their guns and other equipage, they 

 would saunter out to visit their rounds 

 of traps. 



They were the best of friends, each 

 greatly enjoying the presence of the 

 other. At night, after they had re- 

 turned and eaten their frugal meal, they 

 would smoke in the firelight, and 

 handle the grimy cards. 



The beaver and fox were, however, 

 not very plentiful. Although their two 

 piles of pelts were small, they were of 

 equal size. In a happy and peaceful 

 manner, the late fall slowly wore into 

 winter with its frequent flurries of 

 snow. Then a sad, gradual change 

 came over the exiles. 



One day, Detanges brought home 

 many very fine rat and beaver, and 

 Andre returned with nothing. A sec- 

 ond, third and fourth day the same hap- 

 pened. The former's pile of pelts sud- 

 denly became double in size, and the 

 latter's remained the same. There was 

 no ill-feeling on Andre's part at this ; 

 they were not trapping in the spirit of 

 rivals. It was the thought of their 

 families which spurred them to their 

 efforts. 



Besides, beyond a doubt in the 

 spring, each would return with an 

 equal amount of wealth. Within a few 

 days, the unlucky one might become 

 most fortunate. In truth, both consid- 

 ered these incidents entirely unimport- 

 ant, neither mentioning the subject. 



But when it continued for many, 

 many days, Detanges always returning 

 at night with many fine pelts, and An- 

 dre with either none or a few worth- 

 less ones, they began to consider such 

 fortune in the light of a joke. 



"Ve frens always," Detanges would 



say. "You no get mad at moi 'cause 

 Ah have bon luck an' you pore. Bime- 

 by you have goot luck, too. But it es 

 funny, shore !" 



Good fortune did not come to the un- 

 fortunate man, however. As he saw his 

 companion thriving so greatly, he be- 

 came sulky. Each day he worked hard, 

 very hard to catch the furry animals, 

 which meant so much to him. His ef- 

 forts could not be increased. His prey 

 would, in a hundred ways, escape the 

 iron clutch or fatal deadfall. 



Everything depended upon the suc- 

 cess of this winter's work for him. His 

 credit at the store had failed; debts 

 were against him everywhere. His 

 family was pinched and hungry. Also, 

 their safety through the hard, profit- 

 less summer months, must be assured. 

 Yet winter was even then almost 

 upon him, and he had caught almost 

 nothing, whereas his lucky comrade 

 was very prosperous. What could be 

 the cause of all this ? 



Andre was no longer good-natured 

 and enjoyable to his companion; he 

 talked only in grumpy monosyllables. 

 Detanges missed the amiable inter- 

 course, rightly guessing the cause. 



"Your luck is non goot. On mom 

 side of brook you come an' trap. Bet- 

 ter luck den, mebe." 

 "No." 



Puzzled for some other plan to better 

 the condition of affairs, after consider- 

 able thought, he spoke again : 



"Mebe you have not 'nough traps. 

 You take some moin, certaine can." 

 "No." 



As the days passed, and the storms 

 of winter were close at hand, Andre's 

 sullenness increased. He scarcely 

 spoke to his comrade, who became 

 very lonesome, wishing for someone to 

 talk to. Then one day, Detanges made 

 an acquaintance, which helped to fill 

 the lonely place in his heart, to whom 

 he could talk at any length without be- 

 ing interrupted. 



While skirting through the woods on 

 one of his rounds, he espied the figure 

 of a crow on the new fallen snow. Al- 



