Hawes
sighed, made an effort to straighten himself, and collapsed. Wertz went
over on an elbow with drooping head. He choked a little, and a dark
stream flowed from his mouth. And Sigmund, the Golden-Haired, his throat
a-gurgle with the song, threw up his arms and pitched across the fire.
* * * * *
The witch doctor's eyes were well blackened, and his temper none of the
best; for he quarrelled with the chief over the possession of Wertz's
rifle, and took more than his share of the part-sack of beans. Also he
appropriated the bearskin, and caused grumbling among the tribesmen. And
finally, he tried to kill Sigmund's dog, which the girl had given him,
but the dog ran away, while he fell into the shaft and dislocated his
shoulder on the bucket. When the camp was well looted they went back to
their own lodges, and there was a great rejoicing among the women.
Further, a band of moose strayed over the south divide and fell before
the hunters, so the witch doctor attained yet greater honor, and the
people whispered among themselves that he spoke in council with the gods.
But later, when all were gone, the shepherd dog crept back to the
deserted camp, and all the night long and a day it wailed the dead.
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