Page:Quiller-Couch--Old fires and profitable ghosts.djvu/177

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FROZEN MARGIT
169

have bartered the man there for food. You have been very good to me, but this cannot be helped."

Obed lifted his gun: then lowered it. "Dom," he muttered, "can you shoot her? I cannot!"

I was using all my strength, just then, to keep paddling the canoe against the current. I caught a glimpse of our comrades on the further bank: and then exactly what happened I know not. Perhaps Margit, having given her answer, turned back towards the house. At any rate, shrilly crying her name, Obed sprang up and discharged his musket. The shot went wide. With a second furious cry he stooped, caught up the helpless toën, and held him high in air. The canoe lurched heavily, and the next instant I was in the water.

I never saw Obed again: and the toën must have gone down like a stone. For me, I struck out for the far shore, but the current swept me down on the sandy spit where we had nearly come to shipwreck, the day before. Several Indians had gathered there. One ran into the water, waist-high, lifting a club. I turned and made a last effort to swim from him, but he flung himself on my back and bore me under.


I recovered to find myself in an Indian hut. Margit had persuaded them to spare me, and I was now, in name at least, a slave in Yootramaki's possession. As a matter of fact, however, I was allowed to do pretty much as I liked; and my employment (absurd as it may sound) for the most part consisted