I considered for a moment before I answered.
'If you can't move, the best thing for me to do would be to make you as comfortable as possible here, and then ride off as fast as I can go for the tray buggy and a mattress. We could bring you in in that way better than any other.'
'That's it, Jim. Now go as fast as you can. My poor father will be in a terrible state when he hears the news.'
'First let me make you as comfortable as possible,' I replied. 'I think it would be better for you to lie just where you are.'
Taking off my coat, I rolled it into a pad. Next I caught her horse and removed her saddle. This I placed flaps upward, beneath her head, with my coat upon it, and so made a fairly comfortable pillow.
'Do you feel easier now?' I asked, looking down at her.
'Much easier,' she answered; 'but don't be any longer than you can help, Jim.'
'Not a second,' I replied, and ran towards my own horse and climbed into the saddle. Then with a last call of encouragement I set off, and within half-an-hour was at the stable slip panels. Then without waiting to let them down I sprang off and ran into the house. Old Mrs Beazley, the cook, was standing at her kitchen door.
'Where is Mr McLeod?' I asked, almost trembling with excitement.