The buckskin was apparently worried. She sniffed the air dubiously, snorted an anxious greeting to Pedro and Siwash, and moved to one side, lest by mistake she should tread upon her master, who lay in a motionless heap close beside her. Then Virginia’s quick eyes discovered blood upon the man’s head and face. She jumped to her feet.
“He’s hurt somehow, Vivian,” she said, “terribly hurt, I’m afraid. We mustn’t leave him like this. He might die here all alone! Come on! Let’s see what we can do.”
Vivian, too surprised to remonstrate, followed Virginia through the quaking-asps. The man lay where he had fallen, unconscious of anything about him. Blood was flowing from an ugly wound just above his forehead. He was a sad and sorry sight. Vivian shuddered and drew back.
“Who is he, Virginia?” she breathed. “You know who he is, don’t you? Oh, what are you 269 going to do?” For Virginia’s strong young arms were trying to pull the man into a more comfortable position, and farther beneath the trees.
“No, I don’t know who he is,” she whispered, fanning the man’s white face with her broad-brimmed hat. “That doesn’t make any difference. He’s awfully hurt! I thought at first ’twas a shot, but I guess he’s fallen. It looks like that. The horse belongs to Michner’s. I know by the brand. Fan him, Vivian, while I fix his head and see if he has any whisky about him anywhere.”
The dazed and frightened Vivian obediently took the fan, and turning her face away, frantically fanned the quaking-asps until they danced and fluttered once more. Virginia untied the cow boy’s slicker from the back of the buckskin’s saddle and folded it into a pillow, which she placed beneath the sick man’s head. The buckskin was relieved and whinnied her thanks. Then from one pocket she drew a small, leathern flask and shook it.
“Empty!” she said. “Hard luck! Water will have to do. We were careless to forget our drinking-cups. 270 Rinse this flask, and get some water from the spring, Vivian.”
Vivian, still waving the fan in the air, brought the water, which Virginia tried to pour between the man’s lips. It seemed to arouse him, for he drank some gratefully, though without opening his eyes.
“I ought to wash some of this blood away,” said Virginia, “but I guess I won’t take the time. You can do that after I’m gone. There’s only one thing to do. We can’t leave this man here in this condition. He might die before any one found him. I’ll take Pedro and ride on to Michner’s as fast as I can for help. Or,” she added, seeing Vivian’s eyes open wider, “you take him, and I’ll stay here. Either you like, only we must decide at once. Maybe we’ll meet somebody or somebody’ll come, or maybe there’ll be somebody at the homesteader’s cabin. Which will you do, ride or stay?”
Vivian had decided before she looked at Pedro. She always felt that Pedro entertained scorn for her, contempt that wild gallops through the sagebrush should, together with his youth and speed, 271 present terrors. She knew that he despised her for preferring Siwash to him.