They went down with a crash. Nachbar’s body caught the surface of the capsized table, and it split and broke under the fierce impact. Nachbar was on top. Clement strove to twist him off with a Japanese wrestling throw, but the sheer weight of the man bore him down. His great legs were upon the Englishman’s body, his great knee was grinding down the injured right arm. A pair of huge hands were tearing away the Englishman’s left, were clutching at the throat.
Clement’s head was forced back and back until he felt his spine would snap. There was a cruel pressure on his gullet, and his blood was roaring in his ears. He felt that his body was slipping away into a deep and terrible abyss, and that as it slipped his strength was dropping swiftly away from him. The great body on him was grinding him down, crushing him down.
There was a thumping of heavy boots on the planking of the porch. Men were running and shouting. A great voice from the window yelled, “You—the elephant—shove your hands up—lively.”
“I’ll get hit if he fires,” Clement’s mind registered.
More stampings. A voice shouted in the door, “Don’t shoot, Paul—t’ feller underneath.—That’s it, the butt.”
Nachbar jerked round and looked up. A man was upon him, his hand up, a pistol swinging by its barrel poised to strike. With his astonishing mobility, the mountain of a man was on his feet. His arm shot out and the threatening man thudded into a corner. The murderer was round at once, springing in shack-shaking leaps of bewildering agility for the door that lead to the inner room. He reached the door, grabbed at the handle.
A Winchester banged from the window. Nachbar’s shoulders struck the door, burst it open. A rifle barked again, and the door crashed to in an echo of the shot.
There was a rush of feet across the room; the strong shoulders of two of the men from the canoe jammed together in its narrow length before they burst it open. Both men stopped dead, wheeled about.
“Gone!” yelled one of them. “Jumped clean through that window.” The three made for the door of the shack.
“One of you stay,” yelled Gatineau. “There’s the man an’ the woman to look to. The other two go after him, and shoot on sight.”