"They're fine dogs," answered Callack with a sneer. "I think I'll take 'em for myself. Now then, get off your sleds and we'll talk business. After I have the gold I may consent to let you have your dogs back, though you don't deserve it, for you've made me a lot of trouble."
He spoke as though he had a right to steal the treasure from those who had found it, and as if they had no right to resist. Callack called something to his men, and a moment later they were pulling the treasure finders from the sleds and binding them with thongs of deer skin, having first taken their guns away.
Mr. Baxter and the two boys submitted with what grace they could to these indignities. But Johnson, the big colored man, fought with all his strength against the Indians. And, as he was very strong, and they were not very muscular, he tumbled several of them in a heap.
"There ain't no ugly ole Indian gwine t' tie up George Johnson without a fight, that's what they ain't!" he exclaimed.
"Rush at him all together!" called Callack to his men in the Alaskan tongue. Four or five of them did rush, but even they were no match for Johnson, who caught them in his long, powerful arms and tossed them over his shoulder, one by one, into a deep snow bank.
"I'll fix you!" yelled Callack, springing toward the fighting colored man, whose gun had been taken away.
The leader of the ugly Indians raised his rifle by the barrel and brought the stock down with terrific force on the head of Johnson.
Even protected as his skull was by a thick fur cap, the blow felled the negro like an ox. With a groan he sank down on the snow.
"There," said Callack, addressing Mr. Baxter. "That's the way I serve them as don't do what I say."
"You're a coward, to strike a defenseless man," said Mr. Baxter contemptuously.