"Ask your pardon, dog!" the squatter shouted; and bounding like a tiger with a movement swifter than thought, he seized the young man by the throat and fell heavily on him.
"Ah, ah!" he continued, as he placed his knee on his chest, "The old lion is good yet. Your life is in my hands—what do you say? Will you play with me again?"
Nathan howled as he writhed like a serpent to free himself from the grasp that mastered him. At length he recognised his impotence, and confessed himself conquered.
"It is good," he said; "you are stronger than I—you can kill me."
"No," said Ellen, "that shall not be. Rise, father, and set Nathan free; and you, brother, give me your knife—should such a contest take place between father and son?"
She stooped down and picked up the weapon which the young man had let fall from his hand. Red Cedar rose.
"Let that serve you as a lesson," he said, "and teach you to be more prudent in future."
The young man, angered and ashamed of his downfall, sat down again without a word. The squatter turned to his daughter, and offered her the watch a second time.
"Will you have it?" he asked her.
"No," she replied, resolutely.