ofs of the buffaloes, and at their mercy.

After he had adjusted his seat as comfortably as he could, Antoine
surveyed the situation. He had at least escaped from sudden and certain
death. It grieved him that he had been forced to abandon his horse, and
he had no idea how far he had come nor any means of returning to his
friends, who had, no doubt, given him up for lost. His immediate needs
were rest and food.

Accordingly he selected a fat cow and emptied into her sides one barrel
of his gun, which had been slung across his chest. He went on shooting
until he had killed many fat cows, greatly to the discomfiture of his
neighbor, the bear, while the bison vainly struggled among themselves to
keep the fatal spot clear.

By the middle of the afternoon the main body of the herd had passed, and
Antoine was sure that his captivity had at last come to an end. Then
he swung himself from his limb to the ground, and walked stiffly to
the carcass of the nearest cow, which he dressed and prepared himself a
meal. But first he took a piece of liver on a long pole to the bear!

Antoine finally decided to settle in the recesses of the heavy timber
for the winter, as he was on foot and alone, and not able to travel any
great distance. He jerked the meat of all the animals he had killed, and
prepared their skins for bedding and clothing. The Bois Brule and Ami,
as he called the bear, soon became necessary to one another. The former
considered the bear very good company, and the latter had learned that
man's business, after all, is not to kill every animal he meets. He had
been fed and kindly treated, when helpless from his wounds, and this he
could not forget.

Antoine was soon busy erecting a small log hut, while the other partner
kept a sharp lookout, and, after his hurts were healed, often brought in
some small game. The two had a perfect understanding without many words;
at least, the speech was all upon one side! In his leisure moments
Antoine had occupied himself with whittling out a rude fiddle of
cedar-wood, strung with the guts of a wild cat that he had killed. Every
evening that winter he would sit down after supper and play all the old
familiar pieces, varied with improvisations of his own. At first, the
music and the incessant pounding time with his foot annoyed the bear. At
times, too, the Canadian would call out the figures for the dance. All
this Ami became accustomed to in time, and even showed no small interest
in