The roar from the river bank had sharpened itself into one point of
utterance which pierced the calm heavens in a mingling of native
speech, French and broken English from Nakonkirhirinon and halfbreed,
and, worse than both, dissolute "white Indian," and its burden was,
"A skin for a skin!"
CHAPTER XIV FELLOW CAPTIVES
After that tense moment of hush following the shot, McElroy had no
distinct recollection of what occurred. He was conscious of a sickening
knowledge of Negansahima with his banded brown arms stretching into the
evening light, of the tepees, of the river beyond, of the face of
Edmonton Ridgar, and of all these etched distinctly in that effect of
sun and shade which picks out each smallest detail sometimes of a rare
evening in early summer. Then the whole scene went out in a smother as
an avalanche of bodies descended upon him. He could smell the heavy
odour of flesh half-naked, the scent of the hidden paint, he felt arms
that fought to grip him and fingers that clutched like talons. Under it
all he went down in the grass of the slope, fighting with all his
strength, but powerless as a gnat in a pond. Above the turmoil of cries
and guttural yells, even while he felt himself crushed at the bottom of
that boiling mass, he heard the light voice of De Courtenay ringing
clear in his whimsical farewell to Maren Le Moyne.
Pages:
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152