spent a minute or two in inspecting the swollen ankle. Then with a
sympathetic aspiration he slowly stroked it with his hand. In doing so
he drew downward each time and never rubbed the surface upward.

There is something in magnetism, and Deerfoot was sure of a slight
cessation of the pain, though the relief was not marked. When the
caressing had been repeated a number of times, the dwarf softly laid
the foot on the ground and rose to his feet. Another vigorous discharge
of unintelligible words followed, and he wabbled rapidly off beyond the
rocks from behind which he had come a short time before.

Since he left his bow lying on the ground where he had flung it,
Deerfoot knew he had gone in quest of some remedy and would soon
return. He therefore kept his seat on the ground and patiently awaited
the other's coming.

In a few minutes the dwarf reappeared, bearing in his hand a bunch of
green leaves. The twigs were pinnated, and at the base of each leaflet,
where it joined the common peticle, was a single crimson berry,
resembling the common wintergreen, but the genus was unknown to the
Shawanoe, though he knew something of medicinal herbs.

Dividing the twigs with their leaves and berries into halves, the good
Samaritan laid one pile on the ground, pointing to it, and still
chattering. Deerfoot knew he wished to direct his attention to the
healing plant, and he nodded his head to signify he understood and
would remember his request.

Then, as deftly as a girl, the dusky friend picked the berries from the
twigs in the other bunch. They filled the palm of one hand, which he
held out for Deerfoot to inspect. The Shawanoe nodded again. The other
wabbled back to the rocks, but did not pass out of sight. Picking up a
bit of stone, he began crushing the berries upon a projection of the
rocks. It took but a brief time to turn them into a yellow, sticky mass
which emitted a slightly aromatic odor. Returning to the patient, he
skillfully spread the poultice on several of the larger leaves, laid
them over and around the swollen ankle, and then, as gently as a mother
with her babe, drew the stocking over it, so as to hold the poultice in
place.

Deerfoot leaned back, resting his body on his elbows, and heaved a
long, grateful sigh. The relief was bliss itself. For a minute or two
he believed the injury was fully healed, but a slight movement of the
foot proved that this was not the fact. Nevertheless, the effect of the
crus