"For a proper black night commend me to the prairie," said the doctor."It is the dead level does it, I believe.There is nothing to cast a reflection or a shadow.""It will be better in a few minutes," said Cameron, "when we get our night sight.""You are off the trail a bit, I think," said the doctor.
"Yes, I know.I am hitting toward the fire.The light makes it better going that way.""I say, that chap appears to be going some.Quite a song and dance he's giving them," said the doctor, pointing to an Indian who in the full light of the camp fire was standing erect and, with hand outstretched, was declaiming to the others, who, kneeling or squatting about the fire, were giving him rapt attention.The erect figure and outstretched arm arrested Cameron.A haunting sense of familiarity floated across his memory.
"Let's go nearer," he said, "and quietly."With extreme caution they made about two-thirds of the distance when a howl from an Indian dog revealed their presence.At once the speaker who had been standing in the firelight sank crouching to the ground.Instantly Cameron ran forward a few swift steps and, like a hound upon a deer, leapt across the fire and fair upon the crouching Indian, crying "Call the Police, Martin!"With a loud cry of "Police! Police! Help here!" Martin sprang into the middle of an excited group of Indians.Two of them threw themselves upon him, but with a hard right and left he laid them low and, seizing a stick of wood, sprang toward two others who were seeking to batter the life out of Cameron as he lay gripping his enemy by the throat with one hand and with the other by the wrist to check a knife thrust.Swinging his stick around his head and repeating his cry for help, Martin made Cameron's assailants give back a space and before they could renew the attack Sergeant Crisp burst open the door of the Barracks, and, followed by a Slim young constable and the Superintendent, came rushing with shouts upon the scene.Immediately upon the approach of the Police the Indians ceased the fight and all that could faded out of the light into the black night around them, while the Indian who continued to struggle with incredible fury to free himself from Cameron's grip suddenly became limp and motionless.
"Now, what's all this?" demanded the Sergeant."Why, it's you, doctor, and where--? You don't mean that's Cameron there? Hello, Cameron!" he said, leaning over him."Let go! He's safe enough.
We've got him all right.Let go! By Jove! Are they both dead?"Here the Superintendent came up.The incidents leading up to the present situation were briefly described by the doctor.
"I can't get this fellow free," said the Sergeant, who was working hard to release the Indian's throat from the gripping fingers.He turned Cameron over on his back.He was quite insensible.Blood was pouring from his mouth and nose, but his fingers like steel clamps were gripping the wrist and throat of his foe.The Indian lay like dead.
"Good Lord, doctor! What shall we do?" cried the Superintendent.
"Is he dead?"
"No," said Martin, with his hand upon Cameron's heart."Bring water.You can't loosen his fingers till he revives.The blow that knocked him senseless set those fingers as they are and they will stay set thus till released by returning consciousness.""Here then, get water quick!" shouted the Superintendent to the slim young constable.
Gradually as the water was splashed upon his face Cameron came back to life and, relaxing his fingers, stretched himself with a sigh as of vast relief and lay still.
"Here, take that, you beast!" cried the Sergeant, dashing the rest of the water into the face of the Indian lying rigid and motionless on the ground.A long shudder ran through the Indian's limbs.
Clutching at his throat with both hands, he raised himself to a sitting posture, his breath coming in raucous gasps, glared wildly upon the group, then sank back upon the ground, rolled over upon his side and lay twitching and breathing heavily, unheeded by the doctor and Police who were working hard over Cameron.
"No bones broken, I think," said the doctor, feeling the battered head."Here's where the blow fell that knocked him out," pointing to a ridge that ran along the side of Cameron's head."A little lower, a little more to the front and he would never have moved.
Let's get him in."
Cameron opened his eyes, struggled to speak and sank back again.
"Don't stir, old chap.You're all right.Don't move for a bit.
Could you get a little brandy, Sergeant?"Again the slim young constable rushed toward the Barracks and in a few moments returned with the spirits.After taking a sip of the brandy Cameron again opened his eyes and managed to say "Don't--""All right, old chap," said the doctor."We won't move you yet.
Just lie still a bit." But as once more Cameron opened his eyes the agony of the appeal in them aroused the doctor's attention.
