or the Indian, and
at first thought he was gone. But at last I found him half in a big
box turned on its side, rolled up in blankets, some of which he had
stolen from the bed in the hotel. One was a horse-blanket which I was
sure came from the livery stable, so I now felt certain that he had
been responsible for the fire. He was sound asleep. I poked him with
my foot, but he did not move. I instantly knew that he had been
drinking more of the whiskey and was sleeping off its effects. I
picked up a hatchet, knocked off the spigot, and let the contents of
the barrel run on the ground.

I took my lantern and started for the cellar-stairs. I glanced back at
the Indian, and just as I did so he moved one foot a trifle and I saw
something under it. I went back and looked closer and saw that it was
the stock of my rifle, of which I had not once thought that morning. I
instantly decided that I must get it away from him.

I stood my lantern in line with the foot of the stairs, knelt down and
very slowly and cautiously began to pull the gun from beneath the
Indian. He was lying on it full length, and I knew there was vast
danger of waking him. He was much larger than I, and I made no doubt
three times as strong. I fairly held my breath as the weapon slowly
yielded to my efforts. I got it perhaps a third of the way out when it
stuck fast, caught, perhaps, on some of the Indian's clothing. I
pulled as hard as I could. It disturbed him, and he moved his feet,
and then with one arm threw off the blanket from his shoulders. Like a
flash I made up my mind to have that gun regardless of anything.

I jumped forward, and with my knees and hands rolled that savage over
as if he had been a log of wood, grabbed the rifle, and started for
the stairs. I snatched at the lantern, but missed it and knocked it
over. The flame wavered for an instant and went out. Up the stairs in
total darkness I swarmed on all fours, dragging the gun by the muzzle,
so that had the hammer caught on anything I am sure the bullet had
gone clean through my body. I slammed the door at the top, scrambled
out a side window where I had got in, and ran across the drifts to the
hotel like a scared coyote, sitting down in the office weak as a cat.
I expected no less than that he would follow me, but he did not, and I
question if he roused up further from his drunken stupor. Looking back
I see what a coward I showed myself; but it seemed quite natural at
the time.

It was