o recover from the shock of
the stunning blow. Leaping onto the charred logs of MacNair's
storehouse, he called loudly to his men, who in a panic were wildly
throwing their outfits onto sleds. Despite their mad haste they
crowded close and listened to the words of the man upon whose judgment
they had learned to rely, and from whose dreaded "dismissal from
service" they had cowered in fear. They swarmed about Lapierre a
hundred strong, and his voice rang harsh.

"You dogs! You _canaille_!" he cried, and they shrank from the baleful
glare of his black eyes. "What would you do? Where would you go? Do
you think that, single-handed, you can escape from MacNair's Indians,
who will follow your trails like hounds and kill you as they would kill
a snared rabbit? I tell you your trails will be short. A dead man
will lie at the end of each. But even if you succeed in escaping the
Indians, what, then, of the Mounted? One by one, upon the rivers and
lakes of the Northland, upon wide snow-steeps of the barren grounds,
even to the shores of the frozen sea, you will be hunted and gathered
in. Or you will be shot like dogs, and your bones left to crunch in
the jaws of the wolf-pack. We are outlaws, all! Not a man of us will
dare show his face in any post or settlement or city in all Canada."

The men shrank before the words, for they knew them to be true. Again
the leader was speaking, and hope gleamed in fear-strained eyes.

"We have yet one chance; I, Pierre Lapierre, have not played my last
card. We will stand or fall together! In the Bastile du Mort are many
rifles, and ammunition and provisions for half a year. Once behind the
barricade, we shall be safe from any attack. We can defy MacNair's
Indians and stand off the Mounted until such time as we are in a
position to dictate our own terms. If we stand man to man together, we
have everything to gain and nothing to lose. We are outlawed, every
one. There is no turning back!"

Lapierre's bold assurance averted the threatened panic, and with a yell
the men fell to work packing their outfits for the journey to Lac du
Mort. The quarter-breed despatched scouts to the southward to
ascertain the whereabouts of MacNair, and, if possible, to find out
whether or not the officer of the Mounted had been killed by the shot
of the Indian.

At early dawn the outfit crossed Snare Lake and headed for Lac du Mort
by way of Grizzly Bear, Lake Mackay, and Du Rocher. Upon th