ing under the useless gun.
Thor thought it was going to leap through the glass as it faced the
window a moment; but it turned and glared toward the Boy, for he could
see both eyes shining. He rose slowly to the side of his bunk and he
prayed for help, for he felt it was kill or be killed. He struck a
match and lighted his pine-root candle, held that in his left hand and
in his right took the old fish-spear, meaning to fight, but he was so
weak he had to use the fish-spear as a crutch. The great Beast stood on
the table still, but was crouching a little as though for a spring. Its
eyes glowed red in the torchlight. Its short tail was switching from
side to side and its growling took a higher pitch. Thor's knees were
smiting together, but he levelled the spear and made a feeble lunge
toward the brute. It sprang at the same moment, not at him, as he first
thought--the torch and the boy's bold front had had effect--it went
over his head to drop on the ground beyond and at once to slink under
the bunk.

This was only a temporary repulse. Thor set the torch on a ledge of the
logs, then took the spear in both hands. He was fighting for his life,
and he knew it. He heard the voices of the women feebly praying. He saw
only the glowing eyes under the bed and heard the growling in higher
pitch as the Beast was nearing action. He steadied himself by a great
effort and plunged the spear with all the force he could give it.

It struck something softer than the logs: a hideous snarl came forth.
The boy threw all his weight on the weapon; the Beast was struggling to
get at him; he felt its teeth and claws grating on the handle, and in
spite of himself it was coming on; its powerful arms and claws were
reaching for him now; he could not hold out long. He put on all his
force, just a little more it was than before; the Beast lurched, there
was a growling, a crack, and a sudden yielding; the rotten old
spear-head had broken off, the Beast sprang out--at him--past
him--never touched him, but across through the hole and away, to be
seen no more.

Thor fell on the bed and lost all consciousness.

He lay there he knew not how long, but was awakened in broad daylight
by a loud, cheery voice:

"Hello! Hello!--are ye all dead? Loo! Thor! Margat!"

He had no strength to answer, but there was a trampling of horses
outside, a heavy step, the door was forced open, and in strode Corney,
handsome and hearty as ever. But what a flash of horror a