He folded his arms across his breast, and said:
"Well, you want me. Here I am. I will fight with any man all alone,
without a gun or arrow or anything. I will fight with my arms--to kill."
I saw revolvers raised at him instantly, but at that the man, my friend,
who stood beside me, sprang in front of the Indian.
"Stop--stop!" he cried. "In the name of the law! I am a sergeant of the
mounted police of Canada. My jurisdiction extends from Winnipeg to
Vancouver. You cannot have this man except over my body: and for my body
every one of you will pay with your lives; for every blow struck this
night, there will be a hundred blows struck upon the river-drivers and
mill-hands of this valley. Take care! Behind me is the law of the
land--her police and her soldiery."
He paused. There was almost complete silence. He continued:
"This man is my prisoner; I arrest him."--He put his hand upon the
Indian's shoulder.--"For the crime he committed this morning he shall
pay: but to the law, not to you. Put up your revolvers, men. Go back to
Viking. Don't risk your lives; don't break the law and make yourselves
criminals and outlaws.
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