e bunk had been were
beginning to crackle and hiss ominously. The smoke had grown thicker,
and the atmosphere was pungent and choking in its quality. He left her
side for a moment, and returned with her furs.

"You must put them on," he said, "or you will freeze outside."

He himself had slipped on his own furs, and when he had helped her into
hers, he took his rifle and nodded towards the pistol which she still
held.

"You need not use it--outside," he said. "Keep it for--for
eventualities. You understand?"

"I understand," she answered calmly, knowing that in the last resource
she was to do what many women of her race had done before her.

"I will go first," he said. "And you must wait a full minute before
emerging. I shall try and make for the woods at the back, and if I get
clear you shall follow me--you understand?"

"Oh my man! my man!" she cried in a shaking voice, knowing that though
he spoke lightly, he had little hope of escape.

Not knowing what to say, or how to comfort her, Stane took her in his
arms again, and kissed her, then for a moment he stood listening.
Outside all was still or whatever sounds there were were drowned by the
increasing roar and crackle of the fire.

"Now!" he said. "Now!"

He slipped down the bar, threw the door open suddenly and plunged
outside. A yell greeted his emergence and he was aware of a small group
of men standing a little way from the cabin. As he ran he fired at them
from the hip; and turned sharply to the left. The two men appeared
suddenly from behind the trees to bar his way, so quickly that he had
not time to fire the rifle before one of them grappled with him. The
rifle fell from his hand, and for a moment they struggled, then whilst
the second man was still running, a shadowy figure slipped from behind
a broad trunk close to where the two men were locked together, and
Stane caught the sudden gleam of a knife as the light from the fire
glinted upon it. He was unable to help himself, and, held in his
antagonist's arms, he waited for the impending stroke. Twice the knife
descended, and his opponent's grip suddenly slackened and the man slid
slowly to the ground. The running man had now reached the scene of the
struggle. He carried a hatchet in his hand, and he struck first at the
unknown one who had killed his companion, and the unknown one went down
like a log. Before Stane had recovered from his surprise the ax was
raised again. He leaped at the man just as