d
continued running for a distance perhaps of fifty yards when an object
rushed past me, tearing through the flesh of my left arm close to the
shoulder on its way; and not knowing that I was not badly wounded nor
how near my pursuer might be, I turned in desperation to meet him,
and saw him not above twenty-five yards away, running towards me with
something bright in his hand. It was Kua-ko, and after wounding me with
his spear he was about to finish me with his knife. O fortunate young
savage, after such a victory, and with that noble blue cloth cloak for
trophy and covering, what fame and happiness will be yours! A change
swift as lightning had come over me, a sudden exultation. I was wounded,
but my right hand was sound and clutched a knife as good as his, and
we were on an equality. I waited for him calmly. All weakness, grief,
despair had vanished, all feelings except a terrible raging desire to
spill his accursed blood; and my brain was clear and my nerves like
steel, and I remembered with something like laughter our old amusing
encounters with rapiers of wood. Ah, that was only making believe and
childish play; this was reality. Could any white man, deprived of his
treacherous, far-killing weapon, meet the resolute savage, face to face
and foot to foot, and equal him with the old primitive weapons? Poor
youth, this delusion will cost you dear! It was scarcely an equal
contest when he hurled himself against me, with only his savage strength
and courage to match my skill; in a few moments he was lying at my
feet, pouring out his life blood on that white thirsty plain. From his
prostrate form I turned, the wet, red knife in my hand, to meet the
others, still thinking that they were on the track and close at hand.
Why had he stooped to pick up the cloak if they were not following--if
he had not been afraid of losing it? I turned only to receive their
spears, to die with my face to them; nor was the thought of death
terrible to me; I could die calmly now after killing my first assailant.
But had I indeed killed him? I asked, hearing a sound like a groan
escape from his lips. Quickly stooping, I once more drove my weapon to
the hilt in his prostrate form, and when he exhaled a deep sigh, and his
frame quivered, and the blood spurted afresh, I experienced a feeling
of savage joy. And still no sound of hurrying footsteps came to my
listening ears and no vague forms appeared in the darkness. I concluded
that he had either