r brute's cries were almost human in their accent of terror and
distress; he struggled desperately to shake off his assailants, and
would have broken them like a reed had he not been half dead with
inanition. The movements of his head prevented the blows from taking
effect; Lapoulle was unable to despatch him.

"_Nom de Dieu!_ how hard his bones are! Hold him, somebody, until I
finish him."

Jean and Maurice stood looking at the scene in silent horror; they heard
not Chouteau's appeals for assistance; were powerless to raise a hand.
And Pache, in a sudden outburst of piety and pity, dropped on his knees,
joined his hands, and began to mumble the prayers that are repeated at
the bedside of the dying.

"Merciful God, have pity on him. Let him, good Lord, depart in peace--"

Again Lapoulle struck ineffectually, with no other effect than to
destroy an ear of the wretched creature, that threw back its head and
gave utterance to a loud, shrill scream.

"Hold on!" growled Chouteau; "this won't do; he'll get us all in the
lockup. We must end the matter. Hold him fast, Loubet."

He took from his pocket a penknife, a small affair of which the blade
was scarcely longer than a man's finger, and casting himself prone on
the animal's body and passing an arm about its neck, began to hack
away at the live flesh, cutting away great morsels, until he found and
severed the artery. He leaped quickly to one side; the blood spurted
forth in a torrent, as when the plug is removed from a fountain, while
the feet stirred feebly and convulsive movements ran along the skin,
succeeding one another like waves of the sea. It was near five minutes
before the horse was dead. His great eyes, dilated wide and filled with
melancholy and affright, were fixed upon the wan-visaged men who stood
waiting for him to die; then they grew dim and the light died from out
them.

"Merciful God," muttered Pache, still on his knees, "keep him in thy
holy protection--succor him, Lord, and grant him eternal rest."

Afterward, when the creature's movements had ceased, they were at a loss
to know where the best cut lay and how they were to get at it. Loubet,
who was something of a Jack-of-all-trades, showed them what was to be
done in order to secure the loin, but as he was a tyro at the butchering
business and, moreover, had only his small penknife to work with, he
quickly lost his way amid the warm, quivering flesh. And Lapoulle,
in his impatience, having attem