and, besides being of beautiful workmanship, was silver-mounted. But
the grand peculiarity about it, and that which afterwards rendered it
the mystery of mysteries to the savages, was that it had two sets of
locks--one percussion, the other flint--so that, when caps failed,
by taking off the one set of locks and affixing the others, it was
converted into a flint rifle. The major, however, took care never
to run short of caps, so that the flint locks were merely held as a
reserve in case of need.

"Now, lads," cried Major 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
settlement. 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