Chapter XII. In the Sun Dance Canyon - Page 2

late now. We are going to sleep."

"Me come dis." He lowered his hand toward the ground. "Too much mans--no like--Indian wait all go 'way--dis man much beeg fight--no good. Come queeek--boy go die."

Already Mandy had made up her mind.

"Let us hurry, Allan," she said.

"You can't go to-night," he replied. "You are dead tired. Wait till morning."

"No, no, we must go." She turned into the house, followed by her husband, and began to rummage in her bag. "Lucky thing I got these supplies in town," she said, hastily putting together her nurse's equipment and some simple remedies. "I wonder if that boy has fever. Bring that Indian in."

"Have you had the doctor?" she inquired, when he appeared.

"Huh! Doctor want cut off leg--dis," his action was sufficiently suggestive. "Boy say no."

"Has the boy any fever? Does he talk-talk-talk?" The Indian nodded his head vigorously.

"Talk much--all day--all night."

"He is evidently in a high fever," said Mandy to her husband. "We must try to check that. Now, my dear, you hurry and get the horses."

"But what shall we do with Moira?" said Cameron suddenly.

"Why," cried Moira, "let me go with you. I should love to go."

But this did not meet with Cameron's approval.

"I can stay here," suggested Smith hesitatingly, "or Miss Cameron can go over with me to the Thatchers'."

"That is better," said Cameron shortly. "We can drop her at the Thatchers' as we pass."

In half an hour Cameron returned with the horses and the party proceeded on their way.

At the Piegan Reserve they were met by Chief Trotting Wolf himself and, without more than a single word of greeting, were led to the tent in which the sick boy lay. Beside him sat the old squaw in a corner of the tent, crooning a weird song as she swayed to and fro. The sick boy lay on a couch of skins, his eyes shining with fever, his foot festering and in a state of indescribable filth and his whole condition one of unspeakable wretchedness. Cameron found his gorge rise at the sight of the gangrenous ankle.

"This is a horrid business, Mandy," he exclaimed. "This is not for you. Let us send for the doctor. That foot will surely have to come off. Don't mess with it. Let us have the doctor."

But his wife, from the moment of her first sight of the wounded foot, forgot all but her mission of help.

"We must have a clean tent, Allan," she said, "and plenty of hot water. Get the hot water first."

Cameron turned to the Chief and said, "Hot water, quick!"

"Huh--good," replied