There was much
chatter about the seeming defeat of the Shaman; some averred he
had but withheld his power, while others conned past events and
agreed with the Wolf. The Bear came to the center of the
battle-ground, a long naked hunting-knife of Russian make in his
hand. The Fox called attention to Mackenzie's revolvers; so he
stripped his belt, buckling it about Zarinska, into whose hands
he also entrusted his rifle. She shook her head that she could
not shoot,--small chance had a woman to handle such precious
things.
'Then, if danger come by my back, cry aloud, "My husband!" No;
thus, "My husband!"'
He laughed as she repeated it, pinched her cheek, and reentered
the circle. Not only in reach and stature had the Bear the
advantage of him, but his blade was longer by a good two inches.
'Scruff' Mackenzie had looked into the eyes of men before, and he
knew it was a man who stood against him; yet he quickened to the
glint of light on the steel, to the dominant pulse of his race.
Time and again he was forced to the edge of the fire or the deep
snow, and time and again, with the foot tactics of the pugilist,
he worked back to the center. Not a voice was lifted in
encouragement, while his antagonist was heartened with applause,
suggestions, and warnings.
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