“How do I know this? W’y, Narcisse told me.
“Hurt Narcisse like everything to see this; but hadn’t he won fair? Friends can split even on grub and follow the same trail for years, but there comes a time when they must smoke their last pipe together at the forks. But it’s all part of the game and a man oughtn’t to grumble if he don’t get a pat hand, as long as the deal’s fair.
“Narcisse and Jacques got to Benton, and when they got ready to start back, the river had frozen up, because the winter came down early that year. So they had another winter trail to follow together before they reached the forks. The factor at Benton gave ’em a couple of good dogs to carry their bedding and they started out afoot.
“Jacques didn’t have much to say. With that peaked, set look on his face he went a-trudging on in the snow from sunup to sundown. Narcisse couldn’t help feeling a little happy, because Paulette was the prettiest girl that ever haunted these parts since the river was dug. It wasn’t any more than human, and he’d won fair.
“Well, they passed Union and they passed Les Mandanes and they passed Roubideaux’, and then there was a long stretch of lonesome country ahead of ’em till they got to Brown’s Landing, about two hundred miles above Pierre.
“One day it came on to blow and snow, and they made a camp in the bluff just like we did here. That’s what reminded me of the story. Jacques made camp while Narcisse was chopping wood. He cut down a dead cottonwood and when it came down, he tripped up in the deep snow and the tree fell on him. Broke his leg above the ankle. Well, there he was a couple hundred miles toward Nowhere in November with one leg.
“Pretty hard on Narcisse, wasn’t it? But Jacques all at once began to be his old self again. Set the leg as good as he could and tied it up so it would stay in place, and joked and was kind to Narcisse.
“‘Seems like old times, pard,’ said Narcisse to Jacques. ‘Danged if I wouldn’t be glad it happened if we wasn’t so far from somewheres; because we mustn’t let the trail fork, old pard. I knew you’d be the same again when I was hard run.’
“And Jacques smiled and said there never was any hard feeling, he guessed. But the peaked look didn’t go away, nor the far-away look in the eyes.