ame road as my shot-gun; it was nothing to me--I defied him now. I'm a
pretty strong man anyway, but I never knew what strength was till I got
hold of Case. He was knocked out of time by the rattle he came down
with, and threw up his hands together, more like a frightened woman, so
that I caught both of them with my left. This wakened him up, and he
fastened his teeth in my forearm like a weasel. Much I cared. My leg
gave me all the pain I had any use for, and I drew my knife and got it
in the place.

"Now," said I, "I've got you; and you're gone up, and a good job too!
Do you feel the point of that? That's for Underhill! And there's for
Adams! And now here's for Uma, and that's going to knock your blooming
soul right out of you!"

With that I gave him the cold steel for all I was worth. His body kicked
under me like a spring sofa; he gave a dreadful kind of a long moan, and
lay still.

"I wonder if you're dead? I hope so!" I thought, for my head was
swimming. But I wasn't going to take chances; I had his own example too
close before me for that; and I tried to draw the knife out to give it
him again. The blood came over my hands, I remember, hot as tea; and
with that I fainted clean away, and fell with my head on the man's
mouth.

When I came to myself it was pitch dark; the cinders had burned out;
there was nothing to be seen but the shine of the dead wood, and I
couldn't remember where I was nor why I was in such pain, nor what I was
all wetted with. Then it came back, and the first thing I attended to
was to give him the knife again a half a dozen times up to the handle. I
believe he was dead already, but it did him no harm, and did me good.

"I bet you're dead now," I said, and then I called to Uma.

Nothing answered, and I made a move to go and grope for her, fouled my
broken leg, and fainted again.

When I came to myself the second time the clouds had all cleared away,
except a few that sailed there, white as cotton. The moon was up--a
tropic moon. The moon at home turns a wood black, but even this old butt
end of a one showed up that forest as green as by day. The night
birds--or, rather, they're a kind of early morning bird--sang out with
their long, falling notes like nightingales. And I could see the dead
man, that I was still half resting on, looking right up into the sky
with his open eyes, no paler than when he was alive; and a little way
off Uma tumbled on her side. I got over to her the best way