Crawford avalanche. (Grayling, Mich.) 1879-19??, 1893-04-06

word, thanked him for his kindness in
asking me TO assist him, and we sepa-
rated 70 go 20 our work and dream OF
promotion
| The next morning I set out in full
shtSslng costume, and took the coach
VIII ch does the journey from Ajaccio to
B9stia. For those who love nature there
il no better ride in the world, but was
too busy with my castles in the air to
notice any Of the beauties OF the land
scape
At Bonifacio we stopped for dinner.
When got in tho coach again, just q
little elevated by the contents of a good
sized bottle, found that had fresh
travelling companion, who had taken n
seat next to me. He was an official at
Bastia, and / had already met him; a
man about my own age. and native Of
Paris like myself. A decent sort of a
fellow.
You are probably aware that the Ad-
ministration, as represented by the Pre-
feet, ETC., and the magisttature never got
on well together; In Corsica 1t is worse
than elsewhere The seat of the admin
istration is ut Ajaccio. that of the magis-
trature at Bastia; we two, therefore, be-
longed to hostile parties. But when you
are long way from home and meet
some one from your native place, you for
get all else, and talk of the old coun-
try.
We were fast friends in less than no
time, and were consoling each other for
being in ''exilen as he termed it. Tho bot
tie OF wine had loosened my tongue, and
| AL l. -. ,k.a 80
that i was locking forward to going
back to France to take up some good
post as a reward for my share in the
capture of Quastana, whom We hoped to
arrest at his cousins house one Sunday
evening. When my companion got of
the coach at Porto Vecchio, we felt as
though we had known each other for
years.
arrived at Solenzara between four and
five o'clock. The place is populated 10
winter by workmen, fishermen and Gus
tom officials, but in summer every one
who can shifts his quarters up in the noun
tains on account of fever. The village,
therefore, was nearly deserted when
reached it that Sunday afternoon.
entered small inn and had some
thing to eat while waiting for Matteo.
Time went on and the fellow did not put
in an appearance; the innkeeper began
10 look ut me suspiciously and l felt
rather uncomfortable AT last there
came knock, and Matteo entered.
He has come to my house" he said,
raising his hat Will yea follow me
therel'
We went outside 1t was very dark
and windy; we stumbled along a stony
path for about three miles-a narrow
path, full of small stones and overSrown
with luxuriant vegetation. which pre-
vented us from going quickly
"That's my house." said Matteo,
pointing among the bushes to a light
which was tlickering at a short distance
from us.
A minute later we were confronted by
a big dog, who barked furiously at us
One would have imagined that he meant
to stop us going farther along the road.
"Here, Bruccio, Brucciow cried my
guide-then, leaning toward me, he said (:
That's Quastana's dog. A ferocious
animal He has no equal for keeping
watch" Turning to the dog again, he
low-do you take us for policemen"
The enormous animal quieted down
and came and shifted around our legs.
1t was a splendid Newfoundland dog,
with thick, white, woody coat, which
had obtained for him the name of Bruc-
clio (white cheese). He ran out in front
of us to the house-a kind of stone hut,
with large hole in the roof, which did
duty for both chimney and window.
In the centre of the room stood rough
table, around which were several ''seats"
made of portions of trunks of trees,
hacked into shape with chopper. A
torch stuck in a piece of wood gave
Pickering light, around which flew a
swarm OF moths and other insects.
At the table sat man who looked like
an Indian or Provincial fishermen, with
a shrewd, sunburnt, clean shaver face.
He was leaning over pack of cards and
was enveloFed in Q cloud of tobacco
smoke.
''Cousin Quastana, said Matteo as we
went in, "this is a gentleman who is GO
ing shooting with me in the morning.
He will cleep here tonight. so as to be
close to the spot in good time to-
morrow"
When you have been an outlaw and
had TO fly for your life you look with
suspicion upon stranger. Quastana
looked me straight in the eyes, for a
second; then. apparently satisfied, he
saluted me and took no further notice of
me. Two minutes later the cousins were
absorbed in game of scoops.
1t is astonishing what mania for card
playing existed in Corsica at that time,
and it is probably the same now. The
clubs and cafes were watched by the po-
lice, for the young men ruined them
selves at a game called bouillotte. In the
villages it was the same; the peasants
were mad for game at cards, and when
they had no money they played Tor their
pipes, knives, sheep-anything
/ watched the two men with great in
terest az they sac opposite each other 81
lently playing the game. They watched
each other'e movements, the cards either
faced downward upon the table or care
fully held so that the opponent might
not catch glimpse of them, and gave
an occasional quick glance attheir ''hand"
without losing sight of the other players
face. / was especially interested in
watching Quastana. The photograph was
a very good one, but it could not repro
duce the sunburnt face, the vivacity and
agility of movement, surprising in man
of his age, and the hoarse, hollow voice
peculiar to those who spend most OF their
time in solitude.
Between two and three hours passed in
this way, and had some difficulty in
keeping awake in the stuffy air of the