be necessary – and boats, of course.
His wife was nearly as much interested as he was, but notquite. She was restive, discontented. However, looking forward, she was able to see a row of nice cabins, a better car to make deliveries easier, an improved road, and kitchen help, money in the bank and retirement. She was not quite sure that she wanted her little boy Alan to grow tied up, as it were, to the country, but she knew that you can’t have everything the way you want it, and if Alan grew up to be as good a man as his father Haldar, her heart and her head told her that she should be satisfied; yet she was not. However, at first her mind jumped the next few years, and saw the lodge at Three Loon Lake as well known, filled, and famous to the far parts of the continent. Americans from California, New York, Honolulu come for the fishing to remote points of British Columbia, so she was right to be hopeful. Canadians come from all over the West.
There was, in Kamloops, this man called Henry Corder who knew Haldar Gunnarsen very well. Henry Corder knew every fishing place in the region, and the owners, and the fishing, and the kind of place that would suit the inquiring visitor. He could sum you up as he sat at his bench, and knew how much roughing-it you could take or whether you wanted tablecloths and indoor plumbing. He also knew the kind of fishing you would get at these places and whether, at that very moment, the fishing was good there. He was honest. He did this for love, although some benefits accrued, because he had the gift and the passion. Everyone deferred to Henry Corder. He liked Haldar Gunnarsen very much and encouraged him in his venture. He could not see why Haldar’s lodge at Three Loon should not, in a few years, have as fine and justified a reputation as any lodge in the district.
It was therefore a keen disappointment to Henry Corder and to many other people when, the summer after a promisingbut incomplete first season, Haldar Gunnarsen’s car slid in the gumbo off the trail in one of the bad spots about six miles from his lodge, and he was pinned beneath the car. Some fishermen driving in that evening found him. Haldar was alive but his hip was broken and he had other injuries of various kinds. The car was salvaged. That was in the middle of the first full season. Mrs. Gunnarsen and the child Alan closed up the lodge and came down to Kamloops. After eight months in the hospital, Haldar began to move about a bit. While he had lain in the hospital, and, partly in order to divert his mind from severe physical pain, he had planned his next season, and the next season after that. He was undefeatable (he thought), and as time went on he communicated with a man whom he knew, and liked moderately well, who might find it worth his while to see him through the next season, and then, of course, Haldar would be all right. He did not wish to do this, as he had a fiercely possessive feeling for Three Loon Lake, and did not really want this man to have any part in it. But the poor, who also meet with misfortune, cannot always choose. So, as Haldar did not at any time consider pulling out of Three Loon Lake, he had to compromise. Things were made still more difficult for him as his hip did not knit well. He suffered, daily and nightly, a good deal of pain, but, as he was a philosopher, he disdained the pain and attempted to ignore it. He refused to recognize the fact that he would not be of much use at the lodge.
His wife conceived a strong dislike for Three Loon Lake, and wished Haldar to sell it. This she urged him to do as soon as she thought he was well enough to be faced with her strong feelings on the subject. A difference of opinion grew to a bickering and then the subject was closed. Haldar persisted in regarding his crippled condition as a temporary affair andirrelevant, and the lodge at the lake as being intrinsically established and permanent. His judgment had become impaired to the extent that he thought
His wife was nearly as much interested as he was, but notquite. She was restive, discontented. However, looking forward, she was able to see a row of nice cabins, a better car to make deliveries easier, an improved road, and kitchen help, money in the bank and retirement. She was not quite sure that she wanted her little boy Alan to grow tied up, as it were, to the country, but she knew that you can’t have everything the way you want it, and if Alan grew up to be as good a man as his father Haldar, her heart and her head told her that she should be satisfied; yet she was not. However, at first her mind jumped the next few years, and saw the lodge at Three Loon Lake as well known, filled, and famous to the far parts of the continent. Americans from California, New York, Honolulu come for the fishing to remote points of British Columbia, so she was right to be hopeful. Canadians come from all over the West.
There was, in Kamloops, this man called Henry Corder who knew Haldar Gunnarsen very well. Henry Corder knew every fishing place in the region, and the owners, and the fishing, and the kind of place that would suit the inquiring visitor. He could sum you up as he sat at his bench, and knew how much roughing-it you could take or whether you wanted tablecloths and indoor plumbing. He also knew the kind of fishing you would get at these places and whether, at that very moment, the fishing was good there. He was honest. He did this for love, although some benefits accrued, because he had the gift and the passion. Everyone deferred to Henry Corder. He liked Haldar Gunnarsen very much and encouraged him in his venture. He could not see why Haldar’s lodge at Three Loon should not, in a few years, have as fine and justified a reputation as any lodge in the district.
It was therefore a keen disappointment to Henry Corder and to many other people when, the summer after a promisingbut incomplete first season, Haldar Gunnarsen’s car slid in the gumbo off the trail in one of the bad spots about six miles from his lodge, and he was pinned beneath the car. Some fishermen driving in that evening found him. Haldar was alive but his hip was broken and he had other injuries of various kinds. The car was salvaged. That was in the middle of the first full season. Mrs. Gunnarsen and the child Alan closed up the lodge and came down to Kamloops. After eight months in the hospital, Haldar began to move about a bit. While he had lain in the hospital, and, partly in order to divert his mind from severe physical pain, he had planned his next season, and the next season after that. He was undefeatable (he thought), and as time went on he communicated with a man whom he knew, and liked moderately well, who might find it worth his while to see him through the next season, and then, of course, Haldar would be all right. He did not wish to do this, as he had a fiercely possessive feeling for Three Loon Lake, and did not really want this man to have any part in it. But the poor, who also meet with misfortune, cannot always choose. So, as Haldar did not at any time consider pulling out of Three Loon Lake, he had to compromise. Things were made still more difficult for him as his hip did not knit well. He suffered, daily and nightly, a good deal of pain, but, as he was a philosopher, he disdained the pain and attempted to ignore it. He refused to recognize the fact that he would not be of much use at the lodge.
His wife conceived a strong dislike for Three Loon Lake, and wished Haldar to sell it. This she urged him to do as soon as she thought he was well enough to be faced with her strong feelings on the subject. A difference of opinion grew to a bickering and then the subject was closed. Haldar persisted in regarding his crippled condition as a temporary affair andirrelevant, and the lodge at the lake as being intrinsically established and permanent. His judgment had become impaired to the extent that he thought
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