be married to your blood."

Again he remembered the singer and dancer and hummed aloud a song she had
taught him. He lived the old life over, but in a detached, impersonal
sort of way, looking at the memory-pictures of his own life as if they
were pictures in a book of anybody's life. The chief's voice, abruptly
breaking the silence, startled him

"It shall be done," said Makamuk. "The girl shall go down the river with
you. But be it understood that I myself strike the three blows with the
axe on your neck."

"But each time I shall put on the medicine," Subienkow answered, with a
show of ill-concealed anxiety.

"You shall put the medicine on between each blow. Here are the hunters
who shall see you do not escape. Go into the forest and gather your
medicine."

Makamuk had been convinced of the worth of the medicine by the Pole's
rapacity. Surely nothing less than the greatest of medicines could
enable a man in the shadow of death to stand up and drive an old-woman's
bargain.

"Besides," whispered Yakaga, when the Pole, with his guard, had
disappeared among the spruce trees, "when you have learned the medicine
you can easily destroy him."

"But how can I destroy him?" Makamuk argued. "His medicine will not let
me destroy him."