“I dipped my paddle and shouted words of scorn after the fleeing warriors.  And the vile things I shouted made them turn their heads in anger, when they beheld that the young men held back, and that I came on alone.  Whereupon, when they had made a safe distance, the two warriors drew their canoes somewhat apart and waited side by side for me to come between.  And I came between, spear in hand, and singing the war-song of my people.  Each flung a spear, but I bent my body, and the spears whistled over me, and I was unhurt.  Then, and we were all together, we three, I cast my spear at the one to the right, and it drove into his throat and he pitched backward into the water.

“Great was my surprise thereat, for I had killed a man.  I turned to the one on the left and drove strong with my paddle, to meet Death face to face; but the man’s second spear, which was his last, but bit into the flesh of my shoulder.  Then was I upon him, making no cast, but pressing the point into his breast and working it through him with both my hands.  And while I worked, pressing with all my strength, he smote me upon my head, once and twice, with the broad of his paddle.

“Even as the point of the spear sprang out beyond his back, he smote me upon the head.  There was a flash, as of bright light, and inside my head I felt something give, with a snap—­just like that, with a snap.  And the weight that pressed above my eyes so long was lifted, and the band that bound my brows so tight was broken.  And a great gladness came upon me, and my heart sang with joy.

“This be death, I thought; wherefore I thought that death was very good.  And then I saw the two empty canoes, and I knew that I was not dead, but well again.  The blows of the man upon my head had made me well.  I knew that I had killed, and the taste of the blood made me fierce, and I drove my paddle into the breast of the Yukon and urged my canoe toward the village of the Mukumuks.  The young men behind me gave a great cry.  I looked over my shoulder and saw the water foaming white from their paddles—­”

“Ay, it foamed white from our paddles,” said Mutsak.  “For we remembered the command of the Otter, and of Skolka, that we behold with our own eyes the manner of Lone Chief’s death.  A young man of the Mukumuks, on his way to a salmon trap, beheld the coming of Lone Chief, and of the five score men behind him.  And the young man fled in his canoe, straight for the village, that alarm might be given and preparation made.  But Lone Chief hurried after him, and we hurried after Lone Chief to behold the manner of his death.  Only, in the face of the village, as the young man leaped to the shore, Lone Chief rose up in his canoe and made a mighty cast.  And the spear entered the body of the young man above the hips, and the young man fell upon his face.