Seeing the two brothers together, the undiscriminating would unhesitatingly have picked René, with his picturesque, gaudy attire, his loud, ever-ready laughter, his boisterous, bull-throated _chansons_, and his self-confident air, as the typical man of the North. For beside him Victor, with faded overalls, his sockless feet thrust into worn shoes, his torn shirt, and his old black felt hat, cut a sorry figure.
But those who know recall the time that old Angus Forgan, the drunken trader of Big Stone, fell out of a scow at the head of the Rapids of the Drowned. They will tell you that of the twenty rivermen who witnessed the accident only two dared to attempt a rescue, and those two were René and Victor Bossuet. And that René, being the stronger, reached the struggling man first and, twisting his fingers into his collar, struck out for a flat shelf of rock that edged the first suck of the rapids. They will tell you how he reached the rock and, throwing an arm upon its flat surface, endeavoured to pull himself up; but the grip of the current upon the two bodies was strong and after two or three attempts René released his grip on the drowning man's collar and clambered to safety. Then they will tell you how Victor, who had managed to gain shore when he saw René reach the rock, plunged in again, straight into the roaring chute, of how he reached Forgan in the nick of time, of how the two bodies disappeared completely from view in the foaming white water, and of how a quarter of a mile below, by means of Herculean effort and a bit of luck, Victor managed to gain the eddy of a side channel where he and his unconscious burden whirled round and round until the rivermen running along the bank managed to throw a rope and haul them both to safety.
Also, they will tell you of Gaspard Petrie, a great hulking bully of a man, who called himself "The Grizzly of the Athabasca," whose delight it was to pick fights and to beat his opponents into unconsciousness with his fists. And of how the mighty Petrie whose ill fame had spread the length of the three rivers, joined the brigade once at Fort McMurry and of how the boisterous René became the bright and shining mark of his attentions, and of the fight that sent René to the brush before he was "licked," after which René stood the taunts and insults of "The Grizzly of the Athabasca" for many days like the craven he was, before the eyes of all men, until one day Petrie used words that brought insult upon the mother of René--who was also the mother of Victor. René paid them no heed but Victor rose from his place beside the fire and slowly removed his mackinaw and his torn felt hat and, walking over to Petrie, demanded that he retract the words. "The Grizzly of the Athabasca" eyed him in astonishment, for Victor had been a figure in the brigade so insignificant as to have entirely escaped his attention. The ramping one threw out his huge chest and roared with laughter. "See!" he taunted, "the weasel defies the bear!" And with that he reached out and with his thumb and forefinger grasped Victor by the nose and jerked him roughly toward him.