and raised his head in her hands.

The poor youth, being roused, opened his eyes. They were terribly
sunken and large, but when they met those of Betty they enlarged to an
extent that seemed positively awful, and a faint tinge of colour came to
his hollow cheeks.

"Betty!" he whispered; "can--can it be possible?"

"Yes, it is I! Surely God must have sent me to save your life!"

"I fear not, dear--"

He stopped abruptly and shut his eyes. For a few moments it seemed as
if he were dead, but presently he opened them again, and said, faintly,
"It is too late, I fear. You are very kind, but I--I feel so terribly
weak that I think I am dying."

By this time Tolly, having managed to get on his feet stood beside his
friend, on whom he gazed with intense anxiety. Even the Indians were
solemnised by what appeared to be a death-scene.

"Have you been wounded!" asked the girl, quickly.

"No; _only_ starved!" returned Tom, a slight smile of humour flickering
for a second on his pale face even in that hour of his extremity.

"Have the Indians given you anything to eat since they found you?"

"They have tried to, but what they offered me was dry and tough; I could
not get it down."

The girl rose promptly. "Tolly, fetch me some water and make a fire.
Quick!" she said, and going up to an Indian, coolly drew from its sheath
his scalping-knife, with which she cut Tolly's bonds. The savage
evidently believed that such a creature could not possibly do evil, for
he made no motion whatever to check her. Then, without a word more, she
went to the saddle-bags on the obstinate horse, and, opening one of
them, took out some soft sugar. The savage who held the horse made no
objection. Indeed, from that moment the whole band stood silently by,
observing the pretty maiden and the active boy as they moved about,
regardless of everything but the work in hand.

The Rose of Oregon constituted herself a sick-nurse on that occasion
with marvellous facility. True, she knew nothing whatever about the
duties of a sick-nurse or a doctor, for her father was one of those
fortunate men who are never ill, but her native tact and energy
sufficed. It was not her nature to stand by inactive when anything
urgent had to be done. If she knew not what to do, and no one else did,
she was sure to attempt something. Whether sugar-and-water was the best
food for a starving man she knew not, but she did know--at least she
thought--that the starva