lance shiver from p'int to butt. It fairly sings a death song! I can
feel it go through an' through me a score of times. But I stands thar
facin' him; for, of course, I wants it to go through from the front. I
don't allow to be picked up later with anything so onfashionable as a
lance wound in my back. That would be mighty onprofessional!

"'You onderstands that what now requires minutes in the recital don't
cover seconds as a play. The lance Injun runs up to within a rod of me
an' halts. His arm goes back for a mighty cast of the lance; the
weepon is vibrant with the very sperit of hate an' malice. His eyes,
through a fringe of ha'r that has fallen over 'em, glows out like a
cat's eyes in the dark.

"We stands thar--I still puffin my pipe, he with his lance raised--an'
we looks on each other--I an' that paint-daubed buck! I can't say
whatever is his notion of me, but on my side I never beholds a savage
who appeals to me as a more evil an' forbiddin' picture!

"'As I looks him over a change takes place. The fire in his eyes dies
out, his face relaxes its f'rocity, an' after standin' for a moment an'
as the balance of the band arrives, he turns the lance over his arm an'
with the butt presented, surrenders it into my hand. You can gamble I
don't lose no time in arguin' the question, but accepts the lance with
all that it implies. Bringin' the weepon to a 'Right Shoulder' an'
with my mind relieved, I gives the word to my mule-skinner--who's
onconscious of the transactions in life an' death goin' on behind his
back--an' with that, we-all takes up our march an' soon comes up on the
escort where it's ag'in fixed firm in the snow about a furlong to the
fore. My savages follows along with me, an' each of 'em as grave as
squinch owls an' tame as tabby cats.