For a moment, left thus comparatively alone and unguarded, the captives did not know what to do. They watched the three Indians leap into the midst of the fighting, yelling throng of their fellows, amid which Callack stood, vainly plying his whip, as he would among a pack of dogs, to restore order.
"Boys!" cried Mr. Baxter suddenly. "Here's our chance. Can you loosen the thongs?"
As he spoke he exerted all his strength, and the partly-tied leather strips about his hands came loose. A moment later Fred's arms were also free. Jerry was more securely tied, but it did not take long for Fred and Mr. Baxter to release him.
"Now help Johnson," said the old miner, turning to where the colored man sat in the snow, just as he had been dropped when brought from the tent.
The thongs were quickly stripped from the negro.
"Stand up," cried Mr. Baxter, shaking the man, who seemed to be in a daze. "Stand up! We're going to escape! It's our only chance, when they're fighting among themselves!"
The Indians were paying no attention to their captives. They were in the thick of the fight now, the sound of blows echoing loudly in the still air. Clubs, dog whips, chunks of ice, shovels and picks, the implements being taken from the sleds, were used as weapons. Callack was unable to control his men. In fact he was in considerable danger.
But the colored man never stirred. He looked up at Mr. Baxter, smiled stupidly and mumbled:
"It suah am a warm day. Landy, but dis coon has got t' take off some ob his clothes!"
"His mind is wandering," spoke Mr. Baxter sadly. "Come, Johnson," he said. "We will help you to escape. Get up and walk. You must, or we'll have to leave you. We haven't a minute to spare."