"Just wash the wound, Mansfield," said the commander, "and we will then let her rest until morning."
Our hero proceeded to do as requested. A moment later he exclaimed in a suppressed voice:
"My heavens! see here—SHE IS WHITE!"
Such was indeed the case, and the astonishment of all was unbounded. The water had washed off that species of paint so commonly used among the American Indians, and left the skin perfectly clear and transparent.
"Wonderful!" exclaimed the commander, "what can it mean? As it is nearly all removed from her face, it shows what a beautiful woman she is. Hello! what's the matter with Peterson?"
The ranger had turned as pale as death and fainted—a weakness of which he had never been guilty before. Mansfield instantly dashed some water in his face and he came to. He stared about him totally bewildered.
"Why, what's the matter, Jim?" laughed the commander. "Are you so tender-hearted that you must faint when a female is hurt?"
"Get me out of here, quick, if you value her life!" he said, staggering to his feet.
He was assisted to the door, where the physician asked:
"What does this mean, Jim?"