Meanwhile, in order to make sure of the extent of the man’s injuries, Hugh was trying to get his heavy jacket off. The aeronaut had undoubtedly found no chance to exchange this for anything lighter while rapidly descending from the colder upper regions of space, after his accident in the first place.
Billy hastened to help the patrol leader, and between them they managed to remove the coat, which was so thick in texture that it must have protected the poor fellow’s arm more or less when so violently caught by the crotch in the tree.
After that, Hugh began to open his shirt sleeve. He already knew that it was going to prove a bad job, for this was saturated with fresh blood. The sight made Bud set his teeth together and draw a long breath; while even Billy made a grimace, as though he did not particularly fancy his work, though sticking bravely to it.
Arthur was of course busying himself as usual, fussing with that eternal camera again; and had any of the other three been paying the least attention to him, they must surely have heard that suggestive “click” that told he had secured yet another picture of the wounded man and his attendants.
When he had torn back the discolored sleeve of the man’s shirt, Hugh made a quick, gentle examination, while the others watched all he did with deepest interest. As every scout is supposed to learn more or less in connection with field surgery, especially how to manage a broken or sprained limb so as to give relief until a regular doctor can take charge, Billy and Bud understood just what their comrade was trying to do when they saw him fearlessly working at the dangling arm, the very sight of which gave them a cold chill.
He seemed to have managed to get the fractured bones somewhat in place, for his next movement was to pull out a small package from an inner pocket of his khaki coat, and quickly remove the wrapping paper and rubber band that protected it.
With a wisdom that would have done credit to an older head, Hugh had carried a roll of broad, surgical, bandage tape along with him when starting out on the trip. Probably he had had it along on the preceding day also, though there had been no call for its services. His experience and training had led him to “be prepared” for any accident that might happen to his comrades as they tramped and climbed in the woods.
“Give me a helping hand, Billy, won’t you?” asked the patrol leader.
“Sure thing,” muttered the other, steeling himself for the effort and trying to look as though he enjoyed the experience.
“I’d like to wash all this blood off, if I could, only there’s no water handy,” remarked Hugh, regretfully.