The man lay face upward upon the leafy ground, the pallor of death upon his cheeks, the scalp cut from his head. Beside his body the ground was ploughed deep by the hoofs of the horse, showing clearly how the faithful beast had watched and waited for a word from the master who could not speak. A few feet distant were the dead ashes of a tiny fire, and a small coffee dipper burned black still setting among them, its contents long since evaporated.
“Oh, Ree!”
John Jerome could say no more as, followed by their faithful dog and the stranger’s horse, he hastened through the brush to his friend’s side and at a glance saw what was there.
“He’s alive—sure as the world, the body is still almost warm!” cried Ree in an undertone, and seizing the blackened dipper, filled it at the brook and bathed the stranger’s death-like face.
“See if there is brandy or anything in his saddle bags, John,” he next commanded. “Oh, if we can save him!”
Instead of taking the chance of finding nothing to the purpose among the stranger’s baggage, John dashed away across the valley and up the hill to their cart. He knew there were restoratives in a small medicine chest they carried beneath the seat of that vehicle, and in a minute or two he had selected what he wanted and returned. He found that Ree had loosened the stranger’s collar and placed his own coat beneath his head.
“Where is the wound, Ree?” he asked in a whisper.
“I haven’t looked,” Kingdom answered, drawing open the stranger’s mouth and putting between his lips a tiny quantity of the stimulant Jerome had brought. “Help rub his hands.”
As both boys pressed and chafed the stricken man’s fingers, palms and wrists, they felt a feeble warmth in them—so feeble, indeed, that they feared their task was hopeless. But they worked on and on, again administering a portion of the stimulant. At the end of twenty minutes they could see that freer circulation of blood had been established and were hopeful.
A very little later the stranger’s eyelids fluttered and opened. His horse, which had watched, with almost human intelligence, everything that had been done, gave a soft, low whinny of gladness.