"Hold on,
Little Thunder!" he continued, as the Indian reappeared, knife in hand,
"He'll come now. Quiet, you beast! Ah-h-h! Would you?" He seized by the
throat and wrist the Indian, who, frothing with rage and snarling like
a wild animal, was struggling to reach Cameron again. "Down, you dog! Do
you hear me?"
With a twist of his arms he brought the Indian to his knees and held him
as he might a child. Quite suddenly the Indian grew still.
"Good!" said Raven. "Now, no more of this. Pack up."
Without a further word or glance at Cameron, Little Thunder gathered up
the stuff and vanished.
"Now," continued the trader, "you perhaps see that it would be wise for
you to come along without further delay."
"All right," said Cameron, trembling with indignant rage, "but remember,
you'll pay for this."
The trader smiled kindly upon him.
"Better get these things on," he said, pointing to the articles of
clothing upon the cave floor. "The blizzard is gathering force and we
have still some hours to ride. But," he continued, stepping close to
Cameron and looking him in the eyes, "there must be no more nonsense.
You can see my man is somewhat short in temper; and indeed mine is
rather brittle at times."
For a single instant a smile curled the firm lips and half closed the
steely eyes of the speaker, and, noting the smile and the steely gleam
in the grey-brown eyes, Cameron hastily decided that he would no longer
resist.
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