"Yep, 'twar an accident," almost fiercely replied one of the men, whom Thad now recognized as the fellow whom they had met driving the vehicle that Bob declared had kegs of the illicit mountain dew hidden under the straw—Nate Busby. "We was walkin' thro' ther woods w'en a twig cort the trigger o' my gun, and she hit Cliff in the arm, makin' a bad hurt. Reckons as how he never kin hold out till we-uns git him acrost ter ther doc's cabin."
"You could, if we managed to stop that bleeding," said Thad, eagerly. "Bring him over here, and let me take a look, men. I've done a little something that way. And perhaps you don't know it; but all Boy Scouts are taught how to shut off the flow of blood. There, set him down, and help me get his coat off. There's no time to lose."
"Nope, thar's sure no time tuh lose," muttered the wretched Nate, who was undoubtedly feeling very keenly the fact that it had been his gun that had been discharged through accident, causing all this trouble; and that if the man died, his relatives might even want to hold the unlucky owner of that weapon to account for his carelessness, inexcusable in one who had been mountain born and bred.
They sat the wounded man down as gently as though he had been a babe; after which Nate assisted Thad to take the ragged coat off.
Some of the scouts crowded close, though with white faces; for the sight of blood is always enough to send a cold chill to the hearts of those unaccustomed to the spectacle. But Allan was an exception; and strangely enough, there was Smithy, whom no one would ever have expected to show the least bit of nerve, evidently ready to lend the amateur surgeon a helping hand, if he called for recruits. It often takes a sudden emergency call like this to show what is under the veneered surface of a boy. Smithy had always been deemed rather effeminate; yet here he could stand a sight that sent the cold shivers chasing up and down the spines of such fellows as Giraffe, Davy Jones, and Step Hen, and almost completely upset poor Bumpus.
"Get me one of those stout bandages I brought along, Allan, please," said Thad, when he could see what the terrible nature of the wound was; "you know where they are. And Smithy, will you hand me that stick yonder?"
In a brief space of time the several articles were at the service of the boy, who first of all made a good-sized knot in the handkerchief, after wrapping it around the man's arm above the wound; and then, inserting the stout stick, he began twisting the same vigorously.
It must have pained tremendously, but not a whimper, not a semblance of a groan did they hear from the bearded lips of the wounded mountaineer. Indeed, he seemed to arouse himself sufficiently to watch the confident operations of the young surgeon with a rising curiosity; and Thad thought he could detect a slight smile on his dark face.
As for Nate and the other rough man, they stared as though unable to believe their eyes, to thus see a mere boy so wonderfully able to do what was necessary in a case of life and death. Every little movement did they follow with wrapt attention. No doubt, a great relief had already commenced to rise up in the heart of Nate, as hope again took hold upon him. If the other survived the shock, and loss of blood, it would not be so bad; and trouble might not come home to him on account of his liability for the accident.
Thad soon knew that he had done the right thing. The knot had been properly placed, so that the pressure upon the artery above the wound prevented any more blood being pumped that way by the excited action of the man's heart.