Natsatt did not wish to kill the Indian, and in the darkness he could not tell how much injury the fallen man had received. For a few seconds he maintained his merciless grip, and then let his fingers slowly relax. He sat for a while upon the prostrate form, ready any instant should the Chilcat arouse to renew the contest. But the defeated brave exhibited no sign of further wish to fight. That he was not dead Natsatt could tell by the breathing he could now distinctly hear. He might be unconscious, he thought, and will recover later. He wished to leave the place and get back to the Post. But he desired to have a parting word with his opponent, if he were in a fit condition to understand anything.
"Who are you?" he demanded in the Indian tongue, "and what are you doing here at this time of night?"
Receiving no answer to his question, he continued:
"Speak and tell me who you are, or else I will kill you where you lie."
He had no intention of putting his threat into practice; he only wished to make the man speak. And in truth his words had the desired effect, for after a slight pause there rasped forth the one word "Chilcat."
"Ah, ah, so that's who you are," Natsatt remarked with a sneer. "Nice warrior you are, to lie in wait and leap upon a man without giving him a chance. But you found your mistake this time, didn't you? It was not such an easy job after all, was it? Now look here, Chilcat dog that you are, you've met more than your match to-night. I could kill you here and leave your dead body upon the ground, which is what you really deserve. But I'm not going to do that. I want you to go back to your chief and tell them what the white men are like. That they can fight like grizzlies, and know not what it means to be defeated. Tell him, too, that if he wants to attack the Post he will have a harder job than he expected. There are men over there stronger than I am, and if you had got into their clutches instead of mine they would have had you torn to pieces by this time."
The Chilcat made no reply to these words but lay perfectly still as if he had heard nothing.
"Why don't you speak?" Natsatt demanded. "Why don't you say something? I've a sharp knife here in my belt which is just anxious to do more than tickle your ribs. I'm thinking that would make you speak. Maybe it'll be well to have it handy if you try any of your tricks."
"Ugh!" grunted the Chilcat.
"That makes you say something, does it? Well, I want you to say more than that. Now tell me at once, and no fooling about it either. What is Klitonda's daughter doing over there in the Chilcat camp? How did she get there?"