blaze, and meat never tasted as
good to Bucks as it did on that clear, frosty night, broiled by the
two women and garnished from Bob Scott's provident salt bag.
After satisfying his ravenous hunger, which the Indians considered not
even a fair appetite, Bucks asked to look at the warrior's injured
arm, explaining that his father had been an army surgeon in the great
white man's war, as Bob Scott designated the Civil War in translating
for the Sioux. The arm, which was badly swollen, he found had indeed
been broken by a bullet near the wrist, but only one bone was
fractured, and, finding no trace of the bullet, the confident young
surgeon offered to set the fracture.
Iron Hand, nothing loath, accepted the offer, and after cleansing the
wound as well as it could be cleansed in running water hard by, Bucks
took the rough splints handily supplied by Scott's hunting-knife, and
pulling the bone into place with the scout's aid--though the brave
winced a little at the crude surgery--he soon had the forearm set and
was rewarded with a single guttural, "Wa-sha-ta-la!" from the stalwart
warrior, which, Bob explained, meant, "Heap good."
Sitting afterward by the camp-fire, Scott and Iron Hand, since the
young chief would not talk English, conversed in the Sioux tongue,
the scout translating freely for his younger companion, while the
squaws dressed the second antelope and cut it up for convenience in
carrying on the horses to Casement's camp. Scott reserved only the
hind-quarters of each animal for himself and Bucks, giving the rest to
their hosts.
When it was late, Scott showed the boy how to pillow his head on his
saddle and then stretched himself out to sleep. Bucks lay a long time
looking up at the stars. When he fell asleep, he woke again very soon.
His companion was sleeping peacefully beside him, and he saw Iron Hand
sitting by the fire. Bucks easily imagined his arm would keep him
awake. The squaws were still broiling pieces of antelope over the
little blaze, which was neither bigger nor smaller than before, and
together with the chief they were still eating. Bucks slumbered and
woke again and again during the night, but always to see the same
thing--the three Indians sitting about the fire, broiling and eating
the welcome and wholly unexpected venison.
CHAPTER IV
Before daybreak the scout roused his companion, and, after breakfast
with the three Sioux, who, according to Bob, were still eating supper,
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