ALWAYS TWO BY TWO It was January when a guide from the post brought Paul Weyman to Henri Loti's cabin on the Waterfound.

He was a man of thirty-two or three, full of the red-blooded life that made Henri like him at once.

If this had not been the case, the first few days in the cabin might have been unpleasant, for Henri was in bad humor.

He told Weyman about it their first night, as they were smoking pipes alongside the redly glowing box stove.
"It is damn strange," said Henri.

"I have lost seven lynx in the traps, torn to pieces like they were no more than rabbits that the foxes had killed.