His spear whistled at me like a bullet, but my muscles were braced and
waiting. I caught the weapon, and held it, though the wood ate into my
palms. The savages told the Huron in a derisive roar that the
Frenchman was the better man.

And now it was my turn. So far I had thrown fair, without twist or
trickery, but I knew one turn of the wrist that could do cruel work.
Should I use it? Pemaou had tried to murder me. I looked at his
red-and-white body, and reptile eyes, and hate rushed to my brain like
liquor. I took the spear and snapped it.

"Take your plaything!" I cried, and I tossed the fragments in his face.
"Learn to use it if you care for a whole skin, for I promise you that
we shall meet again." And turning my back on him, I strode out of the
Ottawa camp the richer by some information, and one foe.




CHAPTER V

A DECISION

I found Cadillac in his private room at the fort, and said to myself that
he looked like a man stripped for running. Not that his apparel had
altered since I had met him swaggering upon the beach the day before, but
his bearing had changed. He had dropped superfluities, and was hardened
and sinewed for action.

I expected him to rate me for my tardiness in reporting my interview with