Howe saw the snake bite her, and was at her side in a moment, and with a heavy club killed the terrible reptile on the spot. He then proceeded to bind the limb to prevent a free circulation of the blood, which in a few minutes would have conveyed the poison to the heart, and proved fatal. In the meantime, the chief and Sidney had been gathering an herb, which they bruised between two flat stones and poured over the wound, and put a few drops of the juice in her mouth.
She soon began to suffer excruciating pain, the limb swelling rapidly and turning a livid hue, while the bruised herbs which were bound over the wound every few minutes had to be exchanged for fresh ones, so rapidly did the poison act upon them.
"I feel it here!" said the poor girl, laying her hand on her heart; "it chokes, it suffocates me! Oh, it is terrible to die here! can you do nothing more? can nothing save me?" she added, turning her eyes inquiringly from one to the other of the group around her.
"We will do our best," said Sidney, "but that is very little," he added bitterly.
"Be brave, my poor child and never say die while there is life. As yet I see nothing to fear. The Indian's remedy is doing its work; we see that by the poison it extracts," said Howe, at the same time turning aside to hide the emotion that was welling up from his heart.
"The antelope shall not die," said the chief, "there is another remedy if the plant can be found," and with these words he hastened away into the forest. Her breathing now became more labored, her eye grew glassy, and languor began to pervade her whole frame. With breathless anxiety they awaited the return of the chief; for, if even successful in finding what he was in search of, he might be too late, as already life was waning; and as they knelt around her in speechless agony, and saw the distorted features and glassy eye, they knew that unless some active and powerful stimulant could be procured immediately she would be dead.
After twenty minutes' absence, though it seemed to them to be an hour, the chief returned with his hands filled with roots freshly torn from their bed, and laying them between two flat stones crushed them. Then pressing the juice into a drinking cup they had procured at the Indian village, held it to her lips. She made a motion as if she would drink, but her limbs were powerless, her teeth set, and every muscle rigid. With a low moan she closed her glassy eye, and hope then even fled from her heart. Not so the chief; prying open her teeth with the aid of his hunting-knife, he poured the extract down her throat, and then with a solution of it mixed in water, washed the wound, binding over it the bruised roots from which he had extracted the antidote. He then procured more of the same roots,[11 ] extracted the juice and repeated the process, continuing his efforts for half an hour, when she slowly opened her eyes, looked around, and whispered faintly, "I shall not die now, uncle. I breathe easier," then closed her eyes again with a sweet smile playing around her lips.
Still the chief did not for a moment relax his exertions; he knew too well the subtlety of the poison of the rattlesnake, but while the rest were active in building a soft couch of boughs and leaves on which to lay her, he continued extracting the antidote with as much energy as at the first moment.
Her skin now began to assume a more natural hue; the eye lost its glassiness, and she could articulate with ease. An hour afterwards the swelling began to subside, and the danger was past. The chief had again saved her life.
He said not a word in exultation of his success, but it gleamed from his dark eyes, flushed his swarthy cheek, and swelled his brawny chest. Never strode he with loftier step or more regal carriage—a very impersonation of barbarian royalty. His superior knowledge in many emergencies into which they were brought in their primitive mode of life, his coolness, courage and energy under the trying circumstances that often occurred, commanded their voluntary reverence for the untaught, uncivilized Indian chief. The day and night wore away, and when they had hoped to resume their journey they found that a fever had succeeded the prostration produced by the poison, and she was too ill to travel. Dismayed at this new calamity, they were at a loss for awhile how to proceed. Their guide settled the point for them by insisting that the sick girl should be conveyed on a litter back to the village, where she could have a better shelter, and where her wants could be better supplied than in that lonely spot.