that caution was
useless. They must fight until one was disabled.

Jim gave ground, breathing hard and watching for a chance to grapple
while he kept out of reach. The sweat ran down his face, he was savage
but cool. The worst was, he must move backwards and could not see the
holes in the uneven slope. When he had gone a few yards he heard a
shout and his antagonist looked round.

"Stop right there!" said somebody, and Jim saw Carrie standing above
them on the wall. She was in the moonlight and balanced a gun. Her
face was white but resolute.

"Put down your ax. I mean to shoot!" she said.

Jim thought quickly. The distance was short, but he had not seen
Carrie use a gun. She might miss and have some trouble to re-load.
Besides, he must save her the need for shooting, and the other's
hesitation was his opportunity. Pulling himself together, he leaped
upon the fellow, who stumbled and dropped his ax. Jim seized him round
the waist and a savage grapple began. They swayed to and fro, kicking
the ax that neither durst stoop to reach. The chopper's face was
bleeding; Jim labored for breath, but he was moved by anger that gave
him extra strength. The chopper felt his resolve in his tightening
grip and knew it would go hard with him if he were beaten. It was
plain that the boss meant to exact stern justice and he fought with
instinctive fury for self-preservation.

The primitive passions of both were unloosed. They strained and
grappled like savage animals, and for a time their strength and
stubbornness seemed evenly balanced. Then luck gave Jim an advantage,
for as the other trod upon the ax the long handle tilted up and got
between his legs. He stumbled, and Jim, with a tense effort, lifted
him from the ground. Then, gathering all his strength, he tried to
throw him backwards, but lost his balance, and both plunged down the
slope.

The pitch was steep and they rolled for some distance until they struck
a rocky ledge. The chopper let go, slipped across the ledge, and
vanished. Jim, jarred by the shock, lay still for some moments, and
when he got up awkwardly saw nothing among the rocks and trees below.
A rattle of gravel came out of the gloom, but it sounded some distance
off. Then he heard a step and saw Carrie. She held the gun and was
breathless. Her look was strained and her face white.

"Are you hurt, Jim?" she asked.

"No; not much, anyhow. Go back to the track. Give me the gun."