ep. No such good fortune.

The room was about ten feet wide and fifteen feet long. In the centre
was the stove, and near the door, about six feet to the right, was the
instrument. I was sitting facing the door at the opposite side of the
room. Pretending that I thought they were going to back up against me,
I rose and calmly began to walk toward the instrument.

I had not passed them two feet when they both caught me violently by
the shoulders, and in excited, guttural tones, began in a threatening
manner to say something to me. Seeing that I did not understand, the
tall brave, pointing the bottle, which he still tightly clutched in
his left hand, at the talkative instrument, said fiercely, "No go
there! no go there!"

I quickly understood what they meant; the Indian's fear of telegraph
instruments, and his inability to understand electricity, were known
to every operator west of Winnipeg.

In their drunken fear they imagined that if I got possession of the
wires I would have it in my power to do them an injury.

As easily as I could have lifted an infant, the great savage with his
unengaged hand swung me from my feet, and contemptuously dropped me on
my chair again, after which he took a long draught out of the bottle,
and then handed it to his companion. The effect of the liquor upon
their savage natures showed itself almost immediately; they began to
yell and shout, and putting their hands around their mouths uttered
cries like prairie wolves. I shrank closer to the wall.

In ten minutes they had finished the bottle, and were become nothing
better than howling maniacs. They joined hands and capered round the
stove, stamping the floor viciously with their moccasined feet. Again,
they would wave their long arms about their heads in the most
grotesque manner, uttering at the same time the most blood-curdling
war-whoops.

In their eyes was the baleful light of the wild beast. The coal-oil
light, which but dimly lit up the room, threw a yellow shade upon
their dark, brutal faces, making them look like emissaries from the
evil one, dancing in fiendish glee over some evil deed. The storm, as
though in sympathy with the savage scene, had risen to a hurricane,
shrieking like a mad thing, and through the casement and
ill-constructed door piled up miniature snow-banks.

Every moment I expected my unwelcome visitors would seize me, and in
their insane glee practise upon me some savage torture. Would they
never cease? F