"I backed against the bowlder and shook them off,
sending one sprawling with every blow."
This drew on me another shower of arrows, and a bullet that spat into the bowlder at my side and rebounded past my car. This had come from behind, and with a sudden fear I turned. As I did so a yell that seemed to come from the throats of devils rang through the night, and I saw a number of dark forms leaping upon me. With swift terror in my heart, I sprang up, forgetting the fusils at my feet, and met them with clenched fists. I saw a pale glint of steel and struck out with all my strength, shouting aloud for Radisson. Then my fear dropped away from me as the first man went down beneath my fist, and I stepped forward, raging. The leaping, yelling demons seemed all about me, but I backed against the bowlder and shook them off, sending one sprawling with every blow. I caught the exultant voice of Gib, and leaped at a dark form ahead; catching him about the waist, I felt strength surge into me and heaved him high—then something came down on my head and I fell asleep with the sting of snow on my face.
CHAPTER XVI.
A VOICE IN THE NIGHT.
I knew no more of what passed until I found myself lying on a pile of skins, my head throbbing painfully. Opening my eyes, I saw that I was lying beside a fire, while around me were Chippewas, and standing over me was my enemy.
"Awake, eh?" said Gib softly, in the old Gaelic, which he spoke with the Highland burr. There was an evil smile on his crafty face as I struggled to sit up. For a wonder, I was not bound, which I suppose he did not deem necessary.
"You are a troublous fighter, MacDonald," he sneered. "But with the great Radisson dead, you will have hard work to squeeze out of this pocket of mine."
"Radisson—dead?" I echoed dizzily. The shock of it cleared my head and I looked up at him. "You lie, Gib o' Clarclach! No dog such as you could slay Pierre Radisson! His fate lies in higher hands than yours!"