"What have you there, Miss Yardely?"
"Balsam," was the reply, "for the cut upon your head. It is rather a bad one, and balsam is good for healing."
"But where did you get it?"
"From I forget how many trees. There are quite a number of them hereabouts."
"I didn't know you knew so much of wood lore," he said smilingly.
"I don't," she retorted, quickly. "I am very ignorant of the things that really matter up here. I suppose that balsam would have been the very first thing an Indian girl would have thought of, and would have searched for and applied at once, but I only thought of it this morning. You see one of my uncle's men had a little accident, and an Indian went out to gather the gum. I happened to see him pricking the blisters on the trees and gathering the gum in a dish and I inquired why he was doing it. He explained to me, and this morning when I saw the cut, it suddenly came to me that if I could find balsam in the neighbourhood it would be helpful. And here it is, and now with your permission I will apply it."
"I wonder I never thought of it myself," he answered with a smile. "It is a very healing ungent. Apply to your heart's content, Miss Yardely."
Deftly, with gentle fingers, the girl applied the balsam and then bound the wound with a strip of linen torn from a handkerchief. When the operation was finished, still kneeling beside him, she leaned back on her heels to survey the result.
"It looks quite professional," she said; "there isn't an Indian girl in the North could have done it better."
"There isn't one who could have done it half as well," he answered with a laugh.