"Ain't no p'ison thar," said the old frontiersman. "Thet tribe uses blue juice an' if thar war p'ison the blood would turn greenish. But it's rich red, as ye kin see. No, I allow as how he ain't p'isoned."
"I believe Sam tells the truth," said James Morris.
"But it's a fearful wound," said Dave. "I saw the arrow strike. It went in straight."
All set to work to revive the unconscious sufferer and Barringford insisted upon obtaining some liquor and forcing a few teaspoonsful down the wounded man's throat. At last they had the satisfaction of seeing Joseph Morris give a short gasp and open his eyes dreamily.
"Oh!" he murmured and for a moment was silent. "I—I am hit!" he went on.
"Be quiet, Joseph," said his wife, bending over him. "Yes, you were hit in the breast with an arrow. We will do what we can for you, but you mustn't move, or the wound will start to bleed again."
"But the Indians—"
"The Indians have retreated," said Rodney. "The rangers have come, and Uncle James is here, too, and so is Henry."
"All safe?"
"Yes."