Yet, cautious as I was, little furtive rustlings preceded me.
The wood folks had seen me and were spreading the warning. Unless
Pemaou were asleep I had little chance of surprising him. Yet I crept
on till I saw through the leaves the outlines of a brown figure on the
ground.
I stopped. I had been trying for a good many hours to balance the
right and wrong of this matter in my mind, and my reason had insisted
to my inclination that, if I had opportunity, I must kill Pemaou
without warning. We respect no code in dealing with a rattlesnake, and
I must use this Huron like the vermin that he was. So I had taught
myself.
But now I could not do it. The blanket-wrapped shape was as
unconscious as a child in its cradle, and though the wilderness may
breed hardness of purpose it need not teach butchery. I crept out
determined to scuttle the Indian's canoe and go away. If the man
waked, my knife was ready to try conclusions with him in a fair field.
I suppose that I really desired him to wake, and that made me careless,
for just as I bent to the canoe, I let my foot blunder on a twig, and
it cracked like shattering glass. I grasped my knife and whirled. The
figure on the ground jerked, threw off its shrouding blanket, and
stretched up.
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