ust go, too."

Pierre Caribou did not relax an inch of ground.

Then a roar burst from Leroux's lips, and he flung himself upon the
Indian in the same desperate way as I had experienced, and in an
instant the two men were struggling at the edge of the platform.

It was impossible for me to intervene, and I could only stand by and
stare in horror. And, as I stared, I saw the face of Lacroix among the
rocks again, peering out, with an evil smile upon his lips.

Whether they fought in silence or whether in sound I do not know, for
the noise of the cataract rendered the battle a dumb pantomime.

Pierre had pulled the Frenchman out to the middle of the ledge and was
trying to force him over. But Leroux was clinging with one hand to the
cliff and with the other he beat savagely upon his enemy's face, so
that the blood covered both of them. But Pierre did not seem to feel
the blows.

Leroux, one-handed, was at a disadvantage. He grasped his antagonist
again, and the death-grapple began.

It was a marvel that they could engage in so terrific a fight upon the
ice-coated ledge and hold their balance there. But I saw that they
were in equipoise, for they were bending all the tension of each muscle
to the fight, so that they remained almost motionless, and, thigh to
thigh, arm to arm, breast to breast, each sought to break the other's
strength. And I saw that, when one was broken, he would not yield
slowly, but, having spent the last of his strength, would collapse like
a crumpled cardboard figure and go down into the boiling lake.

The cataract's half-sphere of crystal clearness framed them as though
they formed some dreadful picture.

They bent and swayed, and now Leroux was forcing Pierre's head and
shoulders backward by the weight of his bull's body. But the Indian's
sinews, toughened by years of toil to steel, held fast; and just as
Leroux, confident of victory, shifted his feet and inclined forward,
Pierre changed his grasp and caught him by the throat.

Leroux's face blackened and his eyes started out. His great chest
heaved, and he tore impotently at his enemy's strong fingers that were
shutting out air and light and consciousness. They rocked and swayed;
then, with a last convulsive effort, Leroux swung Pierre off his feet,
raised him high in the air, and tried to dash his body against the
projecting rock at the tunnel's mouth.

But still the Indian's fingers held, and as his consciousness began to
fa