It took me an hour to ketch 'em out o' ther
pony herd, and yer talks about drivers, I'd jest as soon try ter drive
two bolts o' red-hot chain lightning. But I've got all ther ginger
worked outer 'em now, an' I reckon that nigh bay will not never buck no
more."
"Now we'll see if she can be moved," said Ted. "I think we can lift her
right on the blanket on which she is lying, and into the wagon, if you
will lend a hand, Stella."
Each of the four took a corner of the blanket, and with some difficulty,
for Singing Bird suffered excruciating pain with every motion, they got
her into the wagon and started for the camp, driving slowly over the
rough ground.
It was almost daylight when they reached camp, where willing hands
helped to make the girl comfortable in a tent which Ted rigged up.
Then Ted and Stella went to work with all their surgical skill, and soon
had Singing Bird's wound properly dressed. Stella stood guard over her,
and nursed her as tenderly as if the Indian had been a sister of her
blood.
Ted had stayed the herd until Singing Bird should be well enough to get
up. The pasturage was fine, and after their arduous drive Ted thought
that it would do the cattle no harm to have a long rest.
He was undecided what to do with the Indian girl. It was not altogether
practicable to take her with them, and it did not seem to be the humane
thing to leave her behind to again fall into the hands of her brutal
Indian husband.
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