Jack and his mates, hearing the English speech, glanced at each other meaningly. Nevertheless, speech humanized her, and they relaxed.
There was no leaping up of the unholy fires of the night before. They regarded her with great, new respect. They remained sitting motionless, absorbed in her every move, like the spectators of a play.
At the sound of her voice the injured man opened his eyes with a grunt. Seeing her, he rolled away as far as he could get on the bed, crying out in mingled pain and terror:
"Keep her away! Keep her away! Don't let her get me!"
Bela fell back with a scornful smile.
"Tell him I not hurt him," she said to Sam, who had gone to her. "Tell him I come to mak' him well."
Sam sought in vain to reassure Husky.
"I won't let her touch me!" the injured man cried. "She's a witch!"
"Let be," she said to Sam, shrugging. "I tell you w'at to do."
Under her direction Sam cut away his own rude bandage from Husky's shoulder and washed the wound. The bullet had gone cleanly through. Meanwhile Bela was macerating some leaves she had brought. She showed Sam how to apply the mass to the wound before rebandaging it. Husky strained away.