The medicine-man dropped. For a
moment there was silence, then a wild howl went up and a flight of bone
arrows fell short.
"I'd like to take a look at the beggar," Bill remarked, throwing a fresh
shell into place. "I'll swear I drilled him clean between the eyes."
"Didn't work." Stockard shook his head gloomily. Baptiste had evidently
quelled the more warlike of his followers, and instead of precipitating
an attack in the bright light of day, the shot had caused a hasty exodus,
the Indians drawing out of the village beyond the zone of fire.
In the full tide of his proselyting fervor, borne along by the hand of
God, Sturges Owen would have ventured alone into the camp of the
unbeliever, equally prepared for miracle or martyrdom; but in the waiting
which ensued, the fever of conviction died away gradually, as the natural
man asserted itself. Physical fear replaced spiritual hope; the love of
life, the love of God. It was no new experience. He could feel his
weakness coming on, and knew it of old time. He had struggled against it
and been overcome by it before. He remembered when the other men had
driven their paddles like mad in the van of a roaring ice-flood, how, at
the critical moment, in a panic of worldly terror, he had dropped his
paddle and besought wildly with his God for pity.
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