“Thank you, suh; it is a powerful relief.”  And Mr. Taylor proceeded to gather into his arms the victim’s wildly waving legs.

But Jan upreared in his Berserker rage; bleeding, frothing, cursing; five frozen years thawing into sudden hell.  They swayed backward and forward, panted, sweated, like some cyclopean, many-legged monster rising from the lower deeps.  The slush-lamp went over, drowned in its own fat, while the midday twilight scarce percolated through the dirty canvas of the tent.

“For the love of Gawd, Jan, get yer senses back!” pleaded Red Bill.  “We ain’t goin’ to hurt yeh, ’r kill yeh, ‘r anythin’ of that sort.  Jes’ want to hang yeh, that’s all, an’ you a-messin’ round an’ rampagin’ somethin’ terrible.  To think of travellin’ trail together an’ then bein’ treated this-a way.  Wouldn’t ’bleeved it of yeh, Jan!”

“He’s got too much steerage-way.  Grab holt his legs, Taylor, and heave’m over!”

“Yes, suh, Mistah Lawson.  Do you press youah weight above, after I give the word.”  The Kentuckian groped about him in the murky darkness.  “Now, suh, now is the accepted time!”

There was a great surge, and a quarter of a ton of human flesh tottered and crashed to its fall against the side-wall.  Pegs drew and guy-ropes parted, and the tent, collapsing, wrapped the battle in its greasy folds.

“Yer only makin’ it harder fer yerself,” Red Bill continued, at the same time driving both his thumbs into a hairy throat, the possessor of which he had pinned down.  “You’ve made nuisance enough a’ ready, an’ it’ll take half the day to get things straightened when we’ve strung yeh up.”

“I’ll thank you to leave go, suh,” spluttered Mr. Taylor.

Red Bill grunted and loosed his grip, and the twain crawled out into the open.  At the same instant Jan kicked clear of the sailor, and took to his heels across the snow.

“Hi! you lazy devils!  Buck!  Bright!  Sic’m!  Pull ’m down!” sang out Lawson, lunging through the snow after the fleeing man.  Buck and Bright, followed by the rest of the dogs, outstripped him and rapidly overhauled the murderer.

There was no reason that these men should do this; no reason for Jan to run away; no reason for them to attempt to prevent him.  On the one hand stretched the barren snow-land; on the other, the frozen sea.  With neither food nor shelter, he could not run far.  All they had to do was to wait till he wandered back to the tent, as he inevitably must, when the frost and hunger laid hold of him.  But these men did not stop to think.  There was a certain taint of madness running in the veins of all of them.  Besides, blood had been spilled, and upon them was the blood-lust, thick and hot.  “Vengeance is mine,” saith the Lord, and He saith it in temperate climes where the warm sun steals away the energies of men.  But in the Northland they have discovered that prayer is only efficacious when backed by muscle, and they are accustomed to doing things for themselves.  God is everywhere, they have heard, but he flings a shadow over the land for half the year that they may not find him; so they grope in darkness, and it is not to be wondered that they often doubt, and deem the Decalogue out of gear.