He bent over the body of Don Torribio, unsheathed his poniard, and put the blade to his lips.
"Not a sign of breath!". and he shook his head.
"Are his wounds serious?" asked the verado.
"I think not: he has fallen from fatigue and overexcitement."
"But in that case he may come round again?"
"Perhaps he may; perhaps he may not: all depends upon the greater or less violence of the shock to his nervous system."
"Ha!" exclaimed the verado joyfully; "Look here! He breathes. ¡Vive Dios! He has tried to open his eyes!"
"Then he is saved!" replied Pablito; "He will soon come to his senses. This man has a constitution of iron. He will be able to be in the saddle in a quarter of an hour, if he likes; but we must attend to his wounds."
The vaqueros, like the backwoodsmen, live far from inhabited places; and are obliged to be their own doctors; hence they acquire a certain practical knowledge of surgery, and are adepts in the collection and application of the herbs in use among the Indians.
Pablito, aided by Carlocho and the verado, bathed the wounds of Don Torribio, first with water, then with rum, and blew tobacco smoke into his nostrils.