Silently they fought, body against body, Ranking lunging to bring up the gun and Barton straining to prevent it, two men made supremely strong by their need, each fighting for his life. They moved like dancers, circling in the rough trail, bending, swaying, backstepping, the muscles of their arms corded like the clutching roots of the trees around them. Suddenly, as Barton twisted Rankin's wrist, the gun exploded, and the man against him straightened convulsively and sank, turning, to crumple on the ground.