"Yes, yes; why did I not think of it? How you must suffer! Wait, I will dress that wound in a moment."
Snatching a brand from the fire in which the horseshoe had been heated, she sought eagerly around and plucked here and there a kind of weed that grew in the rock crevices.
While she was thus engaged, Dick secured his revolvers and also the horseshoe with which he had been branded.
The latter was still hot, of course.
Having gathered some of the weeds, the girl laid them on a stone and pounded them to a pulp, and, tearing a strip from an article of her linen, she spread the poultice upon it.
"Now, let me fix it," she said to Dick.
Dick sat down and bared his breast, and she applied the cooling pulp to the wound, the contact causing Dick to give a sigh of relief.
"That feels good," he said.
"It will soon draw out the fire," said the girl, "and it will aid the wound to heal quickly, too."
Securing the poultice in place as well as possible, she fastened Dick's shirt over it, and when she had done Dick took her in his arms and embraced her, returning the kisses she had given him.