Then they saw her muscles tauten throughout her
whole young body, saw her draw herself up to her full height, and again
for a second's space she stood still. In that moment she had
deliberately put herself back in the surging turmoil of Grand Portage,
was listening to the words of old Pierre Vernaise: "Well done, Little
Maid! Again now! Into the cleft! Into the cleft! Ah-a! Little One, well
done! Alas, but you beat your old teacher!"--was feeling again the
surge of a childhood triumph which scorned to bring nearer that
wilderness of her dreams.
With a swift motion her arm shot up and forward and the tomahawk left
her hand, flying straight as an arrow for the target. It struck with a
clean impact and stood, the handle a little raised and the point well
set in the green wood. There was a rush of the medicine men, who seemed
to act as judges, and then a silence. Peering, bending near to look
closer, they gathered with confusion of voices and presently stepped
back, that all might see.
Neither in black nor red, but directly between the two, the blade
cleaved cleanly down the dividing-line.
They surged forward, gathering round like flies with buzzing and
excitement, examining it from all sides, while the girl stood upon the
line with her hands shut hard beside her.
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