very little effort the canoe moved along.

With wild yells of excitement the men proclaimed this a miracle, always
excepting Alcides, who, with a fierce expression on his face, stood now
on one side, fondling his rifle. The other men chaffed him, and even
insulted him, saying that he had made them struggle for nothing, as he
did not know what he was about. When the rails and the rollers were
placed right the canoe slid along the distance which remained to be
covered, and eventually glided gracefully once more into the water.

[Illustration: Letting the Canoe jump a Rapid.]

It was too bad that Alcides--one of the bravest of men--should possess
such a mean mind and such an ungrateful nature. Twice I had saved his
life when he came within an ace of perishing in dangerous rapids, but
never had he given thanks to me--never had he shown the slightest sign of
recognition. Never, during the entire time he was in my employ, did
he--or any of my other men--say "Good morning" to me when we rose, or
"Good night" when we retired to sleep. Two or three nights before this
last adventure, during a heavy rainstorm, I had deprived myself of my own
tent in order to shelter him and the other men, while I myself got
drenched.

"He only does it," said he, "because he needs to keep us alive to do the
work, or else he would not do it."

I only received offensive words for any kindnesses I showered on him and
the others.

It is seldom one could find a man with a more unpractical mind. He spent
most of his energy working uselessly--and, mind you, very hard
indeed--for nothing, but he could never be made to apply his strength in
a sensible way. If I asked him to cut me a tooth-pick, he would proceed
to cut down one of the largest trees in the neighbourhood and work for an
hour or two until he had reduced a big section of it into the needed
article. He wasted hours daily, and ruined all our axes and cutlery into
the bargain, in scraping flat surfaces on rocks and on the hardest trees,
on which he subsequently engraved his name and that of his lady-love whom
he had left behind. He was really marvellous at calligraphy, and could
certainly write the best hand of any man I have ever known.

He quarrelled all the time with all the other men, and to enforce his
words was constantly producing his automatic pistol fully loaded or else
his rifle.

When I first employed him I had the misfortune to send him on some
messages to two or three people,