taking care not to move his lips and give any alarm Bridger slowly completed his message. Lander read:
Fall flat when they fire then at em I shall thro the log
Lander, staring blankly, patted his boot-leg to show he understood. Bridger rocked his head back and forth and began to groan; then he bowed forward, his hands working convulsively between his legs and against the log. He was like a medicine man having convulsions.
"My medicine is here!" he gasped, his eyes protruding wildly, his hands resting on the sides of the log, his legs straddling gradually apart.
"What does it say?" whispered Deschamps.
"This!" roared Bridger, surging forward while his hands fetched the log between his legs and with a violent toss hurled it into the group. And as he made the cast he threw himself flat, pulled Lander with him, and reached for the pistol.
As the two went down four of the men fired—their lead plumping into the rear wall. Deschamps was scrambling for his rifle and four of the men were writhing on the floor—knocked over by the weight of the heavy missile.
