"
And that was the last word he offered the man who would have delivered
him, turning to face the savages.
"Dogs!" he cried in French; "dogs and sons of dogs!"
Stooping suddenly, he snatched a horned headdress from the crown of an
aged medicine man, scooped it full of glowing brands, and tossed its
contents straight into the wild faces before him.
Then he straightened, crossed his arms, and smiled upon them in
contempt.
Pandemonium was loose.
In breathless swiftness the captives were stripped to the skin, tied
hand and foot, and fastened to stakes set hastily up on either side the
fire.
"It begins to look, M'sieu," called De Courtenay, across the space and
the roaring flames, "as if the Nor'westers and the Hudson's Bays must
scratch up a new wintering partner and a fresh factor,--though, 'ods
blood! this one is fresh enough! Will they cure us as as they have
Negansahima?"
At mention of the dead chief a dozen missiles cut the night air and
struck the speaker. One, a lighted torch, landed full in his face, and
McElroy groaned aloud.
If De Courtenay hoped by his taunts and his jeers to reach a swifter
end, he was mistaken in that hope.
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