“All right, sir, you have only to say the word.”
The night was so black that the trail which in the daylight was worn smooth and plainly visible was quite blotted out. The light from the Indian camp fire, which was blazing brightly a hundred yards away, helped them to keep their general direction.
“For a proper black night commend me to the prairie,” said the doctor. “It is the dead level does it, I believe. There is nothing to cast a reflection or a shadow.”
“It will be better in a few minutes,” said Cameron, “when we get our night sight.”
“You are off the trail a bit, I think,” said the doctor.
“Yes, I know. I am hitting toward the fire. The light makes it better going that way.”
“I say, that chap appears to be going some. Quite a song and dance he's giving them,” said the doctor, pointing to an Indian who in the full light of the camp fire was standing erect and, with hand outstretched, was declaiming to the others, who, kneeling or squatting about the fire, were giving him rapt attention. The erect figure and outstretched arm arrested Cameron. A haunting sense of familiarity floated across his memory.
“Let's go nearer,” he said, “and quietly.”
With extreme caution they made about two-thirds of the distance when a howl from an Indian dog revealed their presence. At once the speaker who had been standing in the firelight sank crouching to the ground. Instantly Cameron ran forward a few swift steps and, like a hound upon a deer, leapt across the fire and fair upon the crouching Indian, crying “Call the Police, Martin!”
With a loud cry of “Police! Police! Help here!” Martin sprang into the middle of an excited group of Indians. Two of them threw themselves upon him, but with a hard right and left he laid them low and, seizing a stick of wood, sprang toward two others who were seeking to batter the life out of Cameron as he lay gripping his enemy by the throat with one hand and with the other by the wrist to check a knife thrust. Swinging his stick around his head and repeating his cry for help, Martin made Cameron's assailants give back a space and before they could renew the attack Sergeant Crisp burst open the door of the Barracks, and, followed by a Slim young constable and the Superintendent, came rushing with shouts upon the scene. Immediately upon the approach of the Police the Indians ceased the fight and all that could faded out of the light into the black night around them, while the Indian who continued to struggle with incredible fury to free himself from Cameron's grip suddenly became limp and motionless.