"The white lady is too good to an Indian girl."
"No, that is only right. How do you feel now? Do you think you could travel if I was to help you into my saddle?"
"I will do what my sister wishes," said the Indian girl simply, trying to rise. But the effort was too much for her, and she sank back, the blood spurting freshly from the wound.
"That won't do," said Stella, easing the girl back, and rolling up her jacket and placing it under her head. "You are not able to leave here yet. At least, you cannot ride."
The Indian girl was perfectly passive under Stella's guidance, and did not think of having a will of her own.
"I wish one of the boys had come with me," Stella said to herself. "Something always happens when I go away alone. I must get word to them somehow."
"I am going to fire my revolver to bring help," said she to Singing Bird. "You will not be frightened."
The other girl shook her head.
Stella fired her revolver three times, and waited for an answer, but none came.
After waiting a while longer, she fired three more shots.