mself into an
ungovernable fury with fiery objurgations. At last he went out, and
again swearing he would kill the Halfbreed, he made for another tent,
from which a sound of revelry was coming.

Vaguely fearing trouble, the Prodigal and I did not go to bed, but sat
talking. Suddenly I saw him listen intently.

"Hist! Did you hear that?"

I seemed to hear a sound like the fierce yelling of a wild animal.

We hurried out. It was Marks running towards us. He was crazy with
liquor, and in one hand he flourished a gun. There was foam on his lips
and he screamed as he ran. Then we saw him stop before the tent occupied
by the Halfbreed, and throw open the flap.

"Come out, you dirty tin-horn, you crook, you Indian bastard; come out
and fight."

He rushed in and came out again, dragging the Halfbreed at arm's length.
They were tussling together, and we flung ourselves on them and
separated them.

I was holding Marks, when suddenly he hurled me off, and flourishing a
revolver, fired one chamber, crying:

"Stand back, all of you; stand back! Let me shoot at him. He's my meat."

We stepped back pretty briskly, for Marks had cut loose. In fact, we
ducked for shelter, all but the Halfbreed, who stood straight and still.

Marks took aim at the man waiting there so coolly. He fired, and a tide
of red stained the other man's shirt, near the shoulder. Then something
happened. The Halfbreed's arm rose quickly. A six-shooter spat twice.

He turned to us. "I didn't want to do it, boys, but you see he druv' me
to it. I'm sorry. He druv' me to it."

Marks lay in a huddled, quivering heap. He was shot through the heart
and quite dead.

CHAPTER VIII

We were camping in Paradise Valley. Before us and behind us the great
Cheechako army laboured along with infinite travail. We had suffered,
but the trail of the land was near its end. And what an end! With every
mile the misery and difficulty of the way seemed to increase. Then we
came to the trail of Rotting Horses.

Dead animals we had seen all along the trail in great numbers, but the
sight as we came on this particular place beggared description. There
were thousands of them. One night we dragged away six of them before we
could find room to put up the tent. There they lay, sprawling horribly,
their ribs protruding through their hides, their eyes putrid in the
sunshine. It was like a battlefield, hauntingly hideous.

And every day was adding to their numbers. The tr