There was no response, and, believing the occupant asleep, I used the
axe handle, rapping sharply. Still no voice answered, although I felt
convinced of some movement inside, leading me to believe that the
sleeper had slipped from his bed and was approaching the door. Again I
rapped, this time with greater impatience over the delay, but not the
slightest sound rewarded the effort Shivering there in my wet clothes,
the stubborn obduracy of the fellow awakened my anger.
"Open up, there," I called commandingly, "or else I'll take this axe
and break down your door."
In the darkness I had been unobservant of a narrow slide in the upper
panel, but had scarcely uttered these words of threat when the flare of
a discharge almost in my very face fairly blinded me, and I fell
backward, aware of a burning sensation in one shoulder. The next
instant I lay outstretched on the ground, and it seemed to me that life
was fast ebbing from my body. Twice I endeavored vainly to rise, but
at the second attempt my brain reeled dizzily and I sank back
unconscious.
CHAPTER VII
PICKING UP THE THREADS
I turned my head slightly on the hard shuck pillow and gazed curiously
about. When my eyes had first opened all I could perceive was the
section of log wall against which I rested, but now, after painfully
turning over, the entire interior of the single-room cabin was
revealed. It was humble enough in all its appointments, the walls
quite bare, the few chairs fashioned from half-barrels, a packing box
for a table, and the narrow bed on which I lay constructed from
saplings lashed together, covered with a coarse ticking, packed with
straw.
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