That was the last conscious moment of Mike for a full half hour. Olsen took a step forward, his long arm shot out and Caldert went to the floor in a heap.
Olsen faced the crowd, his eyes flashing as they had not done in a long time before. With distended nostrils he quietly awaited the rush of the crowd of miners.
"Come on, I vait for you!" growled Olsen.
"Sail in, fellows; we'll down the seal-eater. It was a chance blow that laid Mike out. Go for him!"
The speaker made a leap for Olsen, then went tottering backward with a sledge-hammer blow over his heart.
Still another miner closed in and clinched. Segunder's fists played a terrible tattoo on the man's body, causing the assailant to totter away groaning.
"Come on, you dogs!" bellowed the Icelander, the spirit of battle having by this time taken full possession of him. "I lig you all!"
"Slug him! Slug him all at once!" shouted a voice.
"We can't get near enough. His arms are too long."
Bang!