Chapter 7
All life was tame compared with this sudden awakening of Pierre.
He had killed a man. For fear of it he raced the tall roan
furiously through the night.
He had killed a man. For the joy of it he shouted a song that
went ringing across the blank, white hills. What place was there in
Red Pierre for solemn qualms of conscience? Had he not met the
first and last test triumphantly? The oldest instinct in creation
was satisfied in him. Now he stood ready to say to all the world:
Behold, a man!
Let it be remembered that his early years had been passed in a
dull, dun silence, and time had slipped by him with softly padding,
uneventful hours. Now, with the rope of restraint snapped, he rode
at the world with hands, palm upward, asking for life, and that
life which lies under
