The old fury

     Again and again he delayed to study their trail, and he felt growing within him an old fierceness, a feeling he had had only once or twice since the end of the war.

    He had felt it on that awful night when he had come to find his house in flames, flames already dying down as day was coming. He had felt it during those months of search when he had thought of nothing but finding the men responsible.

    Now he knew they were behind him. They were  back there, coming along his trail.

    Dutton Mowry had told him what he had suspected, and now once more that deep and terrible rage, never quite extinguished, was mounting within him. There was in him something of the old Viking berserker, who threw all caution to the winds and charged, blade in hand, thinking only to cut down his enemy.

    Devine had known that quality was in him, and feared for him. So had Grant.

(from Brionne, by Louis L'Amour)