with the knife. He carried away four fingers of the Indian's fighting
hand, and that ended it; for the next instant the point was at the red
man's throat. The Indian stood to take it like a man; but Pierre loved
that kind of courage, and shot the knife into its sheath instead.

The old chief kept his word, and after the spears were piled, he shook
hands with Macavoy, as did his braves one by one, and they were all moved
by the sincerity of his grasp: their arms were useless for some time
after. They hailed as their ruler, King Macavoy I.; for men are like
dogs--they worship him who beats them. The feasting and dancing went on
till the hunters came back. Then there was a wild scene, but in the end
all the hunters, satisfied, came to greet their new king.

The king himself went to bed in the Fort that night, Pierre and his
bodyguard--by name Noel, Little Babiche, Corvette, Jose, and
Parfaite--its only occupants, singing joyfully:

"Did yees iver hear tell o' Long Barney,
That come from the groves o' Killarney?
He wint for a king, oh, he wint for a king,
But he niver keen back to Killarney
Wid his crown, an' his soord, an' his army!"

As a king Macavoy was a success, for the brag had gone from him. Like all
his race he had faults as a subject, but the responsibility of ruling set
him right. He found in the Fort an old sword and belt, left by some
Hudson's Bay Company's man, and these he furbished up and wore.

With Pierre's aid he drew up a simple constitution, which he carried in
the crown of his cap, and he distributed beads and gaudy trappings as