It was
St. Pierre. Scarcely had the prow of the canoe touched shore when
David leaped out and hurried to meet him. Behind St. Pierre came
Bateese, the half-breed. He was stripped to the waist and naked
from the knees down. His gorilla-like arms hung huge and loose at
his sides, and the muscles of his hulking body stood out like
carven mahogany in the glisten of the morning sun. He was like a
grizzly, a human beast of monstrous power, something to look at,
to back away from, to fear.
Yet, David scarcely noticed him. He met St. Pierre, faced him, and
stopped--and he had gone swiftly to this meeting, so that the
chief of the Boulains was within earshot of all his men.
St. Pierre was smiling. He held out his hand as he had held it out
once before in the bateau cabin, and his big voice boomed out a
greeting.
Carrigan did not answer, nor did he look at the extended hand. For
an instant the eyes of the two men met, and then, swift as
lightning, Carrigan's arm shot out, and with the flat of his hand
he struck St. Pierre a terrific blow squarely on the cheek. The
sound of the blow was like the smash of a paddle on smooth water.
Not a riverman but heard it, and as St.
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