Success and Failure 



The trapper coolly cocked his rifle. The savage, 

 who plainly saw and understood the action, never 

 flinched. He turned his breast to Rea, and there 

 was nothing in his demeanor to suggest his relation 

 to a craven tribe. 



&quot; Good heavens, Rea, don t kill him ! &quot; exclaimed 

 Jones, knocking up the leveled rifle. 



&quot;Why not, I d ii&e to know?&quot; demanded Rea, 

 as if he were considering the fate of a threatening 

 beast. &quot; I reckon it d be a bad thing for us to let 

 him go.&quot; 



&quot; Let him go,&quot; said Jones. &quot; We are here on the 

 ground. We have dogs and meat. We ll get our 

 calves and reach the lake as soon as he does, and we 

 might get there before.&quot; 



&quot; Mebbe we will,&quot; growled Rea. 



No vacillation attended the Indian s mood. From 

 a friendly guide, he had suddenly been transformed 

 into a dark, sullen savage. He refused the musk-ox 

 meat offered by Jones, and he pointed south and 

 looked at the white hunters as if he asked them to go 

 with him. Both men shook their heads in answer. 

 The savage struck his breast a sounding blow and 

 with his index finger pointed at the white of the 

 north, he shouted dramatically: &quot;Naza! Naza! 

 Naza ! &quot; 



He then leaped upon his sled, lashed his dogs into 



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