"Done you ride on de trail, you was keep behine. Dey girl was broke his neck, an' Ermine am pack him."
Stepping briskly forward, the plainsman made quick work of empty moccasin tracks and burst through the brush. A pistol-shot rang in the rear; an orderly had shot the horse. A cry of "Help, help!" responded from the river beyond the cottonwoods, and the horses ploughed their way to the sands. The people all dismounted around the limp figure and kneeling scout. Her pale face, the hat with the water in it, and the horse in the gopher-hole made everything clear.
"Here, Swan, ride to the post for an ambulance," spoke the Major, as he too knelt and took his daughter in his arms. "Ride the horse to death and tell the ambulance to come running." Some of the women brought their ministering hands to bear and with more effect.
"What happened, Katherine?" whispered her father amid the eager silence of the gathered people.
"What did I do?" she pleaded weakly.
"How was it, Ermine?"
"Her horse put his foot in a hole; he is out there now. I saw her go down. Then I tried to save her. Will she live?"
Ermine's eager interest had not departed because of the advent of so many people. He still continued to kneel and to gaze in rapture at the creature of his hopes and fears. No one saw anything in it but the natural interest of one who had been left with so much responsibility.
"If you men will retire, we will endeavor to find her injuries," spoke one of the older ladies; so the men withdrew.