at it,
feeling more and more calm as I recalled the times when I had seen that
same planet shining so brightly in the dear old home; till at last my
leaden eyelids closed, and I slept profoundly, but only to start into
wakefulness as some one trampled upon me heavily; and as I leaped up,
there close to me came the sounds of heavy blows, of the pine twigs
being broken, and loud gaspings and pantings, mingled with heavy
trampling, a low hoarse cry, and a heavy fall.

My heart stood still, and I was paralysed for a few moments as I stood
there in the dark; then the instinct of self-preservation rose strong in
me, and I took out and drew the great knife I had bought, and stood
there ready to sell my life as dearly as I could, but unwilling to move
lest I should indicate to the Indians where they might make their next
attack.

For I felt convinced that my imaginations had been realised; that the
Indians had stolen upon us, and murdered my two companions in their
sleep, while I alone was left helpless in that wild place, and not
daring to call for help.

I suppose all this could not have taken a minute, long as in my agony it
seemed to me before a voice close by me said--

"Dean--Gordon! Wake up, lads. A light--a light!"

A thrill of joy shot through me as I recognised Gunson's voice, although
it was changed by excitement, and panting, just as it sounded to me
after his encounter with the big settler; while before I could speak
there came an answer to his appeal in the shrill tones of the Chinaman.

"Wantee lightee? Yes."

Then there was a blaze, and directly after I saw the little fellow
bearing a great pine branch which he had dragged out of the fire.

"What is it?" I said, eagerly.

"I don't know yet, boy. One of the Indians, I think. He struck me with
a club, but fortunately it was only on the shoulder, and when I leaped
up and struck out he went down. I've got him here. Don't come till we
can see. He may sting."

The light flashed in under the pine boughs then, and I could see
Gunson's back as he knelt down, evidently holding his enemy there by the
throat.

"Why, hang it!" he cried, drawing back sharply; "it's Dean."

"Dean!" I cried. "There must be some one else."

"No; only him. He was striking about with--yes, here it is," he
continued, picking up a stout piece of pine, one of the branches that
had been in the fire till the small twigs were burned off, leaving it as
a strong cudgel about t