jor Hope, stepping up to the point whence they were
to shoot, "remember the terms. He who first drives the nail obtains the
rifle, Fan, and her pup, and accompanies me to the nearest settlements.
Each man shoots with his own gun, and draws lots for the chance."

"Agreed," cried the men.

"Well, then, wipe your guns and draw lots. Henri will fix the nail.
Here it is."

The individual who stepped, or rather plunged forward to receive the
nail was a rare and remarkable specimen of mankind. Like his comrades,
he was half a farmer and half a hunter. Like them, too, he was clad in
deerskin, and was tall and strong--nay, more, he was gigantic. But,
unlike them, he was clumsy, awkward, loose-jointed, and a bad shot.
Nevertheless Henri was an immense favourite in the settlement, for his
good-humour knew no bounds. No one ever saw him frown. Even when
fighting with the savages, as he was sometimes compelled to do in
self-defence, he went at them with a sort of jovial rage that was almost
laughable. Inconsiderate recklessness was one of his chief
characteristics, so that his comrades were rather afraid of him on the
war-trail or in the hunt, where caution, and frequently _soundless_
motion, were essential to success or safety. But when Henri had a
comrade at his side to check him he was safe enough, being humble-minded
and obedient. Men used to say he must have been born under a lucky
star, for, notwithstanding his natural inaptitude for all sorts of
backwoods life, he managed to scramble through everything with safety,
often with success, and sometimes with credit.

To see Henri stalk a deer was worth a long day's journey. Joe Blunt
used to say he was "all jints together, from the top of his head to the
sole of his moccasin." He threw his immense form into the most
inconceivable contortions, and slowly wound his way, sometimes on hands
and knees, sometimes flat, through bush and brake, as if there was not a
bone in his body, and without the slightest noise. This sort of work
was so much against his plunging nature, that he took long to learn it,
but when, through hard practice and the loss of many a fine deer, he
came at length to break himself in to it, he gradually progressed to
perfection, and ultimately became the best stalker in the valley. This,
and this alone, enabled him to procure game, for, being short-sighted,
he could hit nothing beyond fifty yards, except a buffalo or a barn
door.

Yet that same l