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There was no tiht A bend of the streaer charged down the slope in a rush of excite like the hooves of the buffalo herd He could hear Ja Gaelic exhortations

An exclalance back Jaer could call to him, shock shifted to a look of fury Teeth bared, he seized his gun by the barrel, and brought down the stock with a vicious tchunk! Barely pausing, he lifted the gun and clubbed it down again--and again, shoulders rolling with the effort

Reluctantly abandoning the chase, Roger turned and bounded up the slope toward him

"What the hell--?" Then he saw, and felt the hair on his body rise in a surge of revulsion Brown coils squirmed between the tussocks, thick and scaly One end of the snake had been battered to pulp, and its blood stained the butt of Fraser’s musket, but the body writhed on, wormlike and headless

"Stop! It’s dead D’ye hear rasped Fraser’s arht the gun-butt down onceviolently, half-leaning on his gun

"Christ! What happened? Did it get you?"

"Aye, in the leg I stepped on it" Jamie’s face hite to the lips He looked at the still-writhing corpse and a deep shudder ran through hirabbed Fraser’s arm

"Come away Sit doe’ll have a look"

Ja He fuer pushed Jaht foot The fang marks were clear, a double dark-red puncture in the flesh of Fraser’s calf The flesh around the sold light

"It’s poisonous I’ve got to cut it" Roger felt dry-mouthed, but oddly calm, with no sense of panic He pulled the knife froht briefly of sterilization, and disht a fire, and there was no time at all to waste

"Wait" Fraser was still white, but had stopped shaking He took the small flask from his belt and trickled whisky over the blade, then poured a few drops on his fingers and rubbed the liquid over the wound He gave Roger a brief twitch of the mouth, meant as a smile

"Claire does that, when she sets herself to cut someone" He leaned back, hands braced on thehis lip in concentration, Roger pressed the tip of the knife into the skin just above one of the puncture y; the knife dented it, but didn’t penetrate Fraser reached down and clasped his hand around Roger’s; he shoved, with a deep, vicious grunt, and the knife sank suddenly in, an inch orhand fell away

"Again Hard--and quick, er felt clear droplets of sweat fall onto his hand from Fraser’s face, warm and then cold on his skin

He braced himself to the necessary force, stabbed hard and cut quick--two X uides said The wounds were bleeding a lot, blood pouring down in thick streao deep; deep enough to get beyond the poison He dropped the knife and bent, mouth to the wounds

There was no panic, but his sense of urgency was rising How fast did venoer sucked as hard as he could, blood filling his mouth with the taste of hoton the yellow leaves, Fraser’s leg hairs scratchy against his lips With the peculiar diffusion ofthings at once, even as he bent his whole concentration to the task at hand

Was the bloody snake really dead?

How poisonous was it?

Had the bison got away?

Christ, was he doing this right?

Brianna would kill him if he let her father die So would Claire

He had the devil of a crah

Where in hell were the others? Fraser should call for theer’s ken The flesh of the leg Roger held had gone rock-hard, rasped the hair on the back of his head and twisted, forcing hih, aye?" Jaled his bared foot, gri blood, and the flesh around theer sat back on his heels, gulping air

"I’ve made more--of a mess--than the snake did"