"But it is fun--fun, zis," he shouted to me from his canoe. "And _lequel_, m'sieur, which is Rafael?" Rafael, in the bow of my boat, missed a beat of his paddle. It seemed to me he looked older than two years back, when I last saw him. His shoulders were bent, and his merry and stately personality was less in evidence. He appeared subdued. He did not turn with a smile or a grave glance of inquiry at the question, as I had expected. I nodded toward him. "_Mais oui_," cried out the colonel. "One has heard of you, _mon ami_. One will talk to you later of shooting." Rafael, not lifting his head, answered quietly, "_C'est bien, m'sieur._" Just then the canoes slipped past a sandy bar decorated with a fresh moose track; the excitement of the colonel set us laughing. This man was certainly a joy! And with that, after a long paddle down the winding river and across two breezy lakes, we were at the club-house. We lunched, and in short order--for we wanted to make camp that night--I dug into my _pacquetons_ and transformed my officer into a sportsman, his huge delight in Abernethy & Flitch's creations being a part of the game. Then we were off. One has small chance for associating with guides while travelling in the woods. One sits in a canoe between two, but if there is a wind and the boat is _charge_ their hands are full with the small craft and its heavy load; when the landing is made and the "messieurs" are _debarques_, instantly the men are busy lifting canoes on their heads and packs on their backs in bizarre, piled-up masses to be carried from a leather tump-line, a strap of two inches wide going around the forehead. The whole length of the spine helps in the carrying. My colonel watched Delphise, a husky specimen, load. With a grunt he swung up a canvas U.S. mailbag stuffed with _butin_, which includes clothes and books and shoes and tobacco and cartridges and more. With a half-syllable Delphise indicated to Laurent a bag of potatoes weighing eighty pounds, a box of tinned biscuit, a wooden package of cans of condensed milk, a rod case, and a raincoat. These Laurent added to the spine of Delphise. "How many pounds?" I asked, as the dark head bent forward to equalize the strain. Delphise shifted weight with another grunt to gauge the pull. "About a hundred and eighty pounds, m'sieur--quite heavy--_assez pesant_." Off he trotted uphill, head bent forward. The colonel was entranced. "Hardy fellows--the making of fine soldiers," he commented, tossing his cigarette away to stare.