This she wound about his limp body, making a long, tight
bandage. All this time he had not moved; she had to bend close to be
sure that he still breathed. She got snow and wiped his face clean of
blood, touching the closed eyelids gently.

When still the eyes remained shut and he looked like one already dead,
she longed wildly for some stimulant. There was coffee; she would make
hot coffee do. She got the coffee-pot among the coals, filled it with
snow to melt, recklessly poured coffee into it. Then, while she awaited
the slow heating, she returned to him and for the first time saw how wet
his boots were.

She got the boots off and felt his feet; she stooped over them until
for an instant she laid her cheek against a bare foot. It was like ice.
She recalled how he had ministered to her. She heated a blanket and
wrapped it about his feet and ankles. She heated other blankets and put
them about him. The canvas at the cave's mouth had been torn down; she
got it back into place to make it warmer for him. She put fresh wood on
the fire. She hastened the coffee boiling all that she could by placing
bits of dry wood close all about the pot.

She knelt at King's side; she got an arm under his shoulders and managed
to lift him a little; she rolled up a blanket and put it under his head.
Then she brought the cup of black coffee and with a spoon got some of it
between his teeth. She spilled more than went into his mouth but she was
rewarded by seeing the throat muscles contract as involuntarily he
swallowed. Thus, patient and determined and very, very gentle with him,
she got several spoonfuls of coffee down him. Thereafter she let him lie
back again while she sought to plan cool-thoughtedly just how she must
care for him, just what she could do for him. She knew little of nursing
and yet knew instinctively that his condition was precarious, that he
must be kept warm and still, that what strength remained in him must be
saved by proper nourishment. _Proper nourishment_!

There were scraps of food left; Brodie and his men, in their gold fever,
had not so much as thought to gather up the few bits of scanty
provisions. She began taking careful stock; she found a scrap of bread
that had been knocked to the floor and kicked aside; she picked it up
and, carrying a torch with her, began seeking any other fallen morsels.
In this search she came once to the hole in the floor through which
Brodie and the others had gone down into Gus In