When the sun was falling below Little Red Hill, Macavoy came to Wonta's
tent. Pierre was not far away. What occurred in the tent Pierre never
quite knew, but presently he saw Wonta run out in a frightened way,
followed by the five half-breeds, who carried themselves awkwardly.
Behind them again, with head shaking from one side to the other,
travelled Macavoy; and they all marched away towards the Fort. "Well,"
said Pierre to Wonta, "he is amusing, eh?--so big a coward, eh?"

"No, no," she said, "you are wrong. He is no coward. He is a great brave.
He spoke like a little child, but he said he would fight them all when--"

"When their turn came," interposed Pierre, with a fine "bead" of humour
in his voice; "well, you see he has much to do." He pointed towards the
Fort, where people were gathering fast. The strange news had gone abroad,
and the settlement, laughing joyously, came to see Macavoy swagger; they
did not think there would be fighting.

Those whom Macavoy had challenged were not so sure. When the giant
reached the open space in front of the Fort, he looked slowly round him.
A great change had come over him. His skin seemed drawn together more
firmly, and running himself up finely to his full height, he looked no
longer the lounging braggart. Pierre measured him with his eye, and
chuckled to himself. Macavoy stripped himself of his coat and waistcoat,
and rolled up his sleeves. His shirt was flying at the chest.

He beckoned to Pierre.

"Are you standin' me frind in this?" he said. "Now and after," said
Pierre.