"Me no savvey," was all the Indian would say, and Grey realised that no help could be expected from these natives.
What was he to do? Could he permit the child to die without an effort to save his life? He had suffered for him already, and would all that he had done amount to nothing? He thought of Big Glen. Oh, to have him there, in his mother's tender keeping. But that was out of the question. Next he thought of the Hishu village. Would he find assistance there? Would anyone know what to do in such a place? It was not likely, and yet it was worth trying. He turned to the Indian.
"You savvey white man over there?" and he pointed away to the left.
"Ah, ah, me savvey 'um," was the reply.
"How far?" Grey demanded.
"White man cabin over dere. Wan sleep? No."
"What, can I get there to-night?"
"Ah, ah. Sun heem come up dere, sun heem go down dere. White man cabin. You go, eh?"
"Yes, yes, I must," and Grey looked intently at the coughing child.