No mother ever passed her cool hand across the fevered brow of her child more lovingly than did the young Shawanoe fondle the sensitive knee of the mettled steed. The latter did not twitch or resent the caress, for the magnetism of the touch, its gentleness and the soothing words were worth more than any medicinal oil could have been. The soft, cool palm slid over the silken hair like the brush of down. The motion was always toward the hoof and never up the limb “against the grain.” Sometimes, while one hand was thus employed, the other patted the nose that was bent down in acknowledgment of the kindness.
When finally Deerfoot stepped back and straightened up, Whirlwind stood firmly on all his legs. Had his master called for it, he would have galloped off with hardly a perceptible limp.
But Deerfoot had no such thought. That knee should not be permitted to go into service until as strong and sound as the other. While the injury was insignificant, it was sure to become worse through unwise treatment. All that was necessary was to give nature a chance; she always strives to right such matters, and the most that medical skill can do is to help, and all too often the effort proves a hindrance rather than an aid.
The downy rubbing was repeated at intervals and did much good. Whirlwind showed his appreciation by lowering his head and resting his nose on the shoulder of the stooping Deerfoot, whose heart responded to the caress. He felt that they had become real friends.
Some time later he coaxed Whirlwind to lie down. The stallion was reluctant at first, for a horse dislikes to do this except when tired out, and then he is often satisfied with rolling on his back, but he yielded. Then Deerfoot plucked several handfuls of grass, cutting off the roots with his knife, and fed them to his friend, who ate probably to please him, for surely he could not have been hungry.
Now and then the knee was tenderly kneaded, and certainly improved, if indeed it was not already cured. When at last the chilly night closed in, the young Shawanoe lay down beside Whirlwind, so arranging the blanket that it covered both, and their bodies were mutually warmed by the contact. Physician and patient were doing well, thank you.
CHAPTER XII
A HURRIED FLIGHT.
ALTHOUGH George and Victor Shelton parted for the time from Deerfoot with regret, it cannot be said that either felt any misgiving. There could be no doubt of the Shawanoe’s ability to track them all the way to the Pacific if necessary, for the trail would be plain except when they took to the water, which was not likely to be for a long time to come. Moreover, Mul-tal-la had said that little was to be feared from the Indians of the country through which they must make their way. Had the boys been alone danger might threaten, for most of the hunters and trappers who penetrated those vast solitudes looked upon and treated the red men as their enemies, and naturally were thus looked upon and treated in their turn.
The Blackfoot and his companion met with no trouble of this nature on their eastward journey. They were always able to make clear their meaning by signs, and the fact that the two belonged to the same race with the different tribes was a sufficient passport. It seemed reasonable, therefore, to believe that the presence of Mul-tal-la gave all the protection that could be needed.