“God bless you, my old friend!” said Ben, grasping him by both hands, “and God bless the whole of you! ‘friends in need are friends indeed;’ I can’t find words to thank you.”
Poor Sally, now that the excitement was over, fainted away. Ben carried her into the house, while the others brought in a bed, and by the aid of burnt vinegar applied to her nostrils revived her. Her face was uninjured, but her hair was scorched, and her arms and hands burned, causing her much suffering.
“What shall we do for her?” said Ben; “I have not a bit of salve, nor anything in the house.”
“I can tell you what to do,” said Uncle Isaac; “go and get some of that blue clay by the brook, and mix it up with water that has the chill taken off, and plaster it right on three inches thick, and you’ll see what it will do; all you want is to keep the air out.”
They procured the clay, and Uncle Isaac fixed it and put it on. It gave instant relief. In a few moments the clay began to dry and crack open, by reason of the heat and inflammation.
“Ben,” said Uncle Isaac, “do you sit by her and keep that clay moist with cold water; no matter how cold it is now, it will have the chill taken off before it gets through the clay.”
“But how shall we ever get the clay off?”
“You don’t want to get it off; the flesh will heal under it, and then it will come off itself.”
“How did you know that, Uncle Isaac?”
“The Indians learned me; there’s a good deal in an Indian, you’d better believe.”