And then I bethought me of an accomplishment which I had shown Indians
before. Quickness of hand is my greatest resource, and I had been
known to noose a fish. I tore my handkerchief in ribands, made a
weighted sling, and had the Indian swing the canoe over a ripple where
a great bass lay. I waited my time, then plunged my hand down with the
weighted noose. I drew it up, with the fish caught through the gills.
The Indian was pleased. He grunted and exclaimed in his own speech,
though he thought I could not understand.
"They say the Frenchman, Montlivet, can do that." Then he looked at me
and light dawned.
"You are Montlivet!"
I wasted no time. I do not know how I did it, but I sprang the length
of the canoe and was on him before he could reach his knife. The canoe
rocked, but righted itself. I knotted my fingers in the Indian's
throat, and my body pinioned his arms.
The surprise of my attack gave me a second's vantage, and in it I
snatched at the vial in my shirt, and drew the stopper with my teeth.
It was difficult, for the great, naked frame was writhing under me, and
the canoe pitched like a cork in an eddy. I felt the Indian's hot
breath, and his teeth snapping to reach me.
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