I stuck my gun out of the window an' they was afraid to rush the cabin.

They was _afraid_, Johnny, all that afternoon--_an' I didn't have a cartridge left to fire!_ That's why we went just as soon as we could crawl out in the dark.

I knew they'd come that night.

I might ha' killed one or two hand to hand, for I was big an' strong in them days, Johnny, but I knew I couldn't beat 'em all.

So we went." "After all, death isn't so very terrible," said Joanne softly, and she was riding so close that for a moment she laid one of her warm hands on Donald MacDonald's.
"No, it's sometimes--wunnerful--an' beautiful," replied Donald, a little brokenly, and with that he rode ahead, and Joanne and Aldous waited until the pack-horses had passed them.
"He's going to see that all is clear at the summit," explained Aldous.
They seemed to be riding now right into the face of that mysterious rumble and roar of the mountains.