hows itself--and shoot to kill."

As soon as his chum had gone, Charley turned his attention to the
Seminole chief. From the clotted mass of blood, he guessed the
location of the main wound, and with his hunting-knife he rapidly cut
away the shirt, exposing the warrior's chest and back. As he drew back
the blood-soaked cloth, he gave a sigh of relief. The bullet had
passed clear through the body close to the lungs,--a serious wound, but
one which perhaps with proper care need not prove fatal. The amateur
surgeon had no antiseptic except common salt, but with that and water
he quickly cleansed and sterilized the wounds and tearing up one of his
own clean shirts, he first scraped a strip with an old case knife until
he had a quantity of soft lint with which he stopped both the ugly
holes made by the bullet, and then with other strips of the same, he
neatly bandaged the wounds. Next he drew on one of the captain's
shirts in the place of the one he had cut away. Lastly, he broke open
a pack and took out a quart bottle of brandy. Pouring out a large
drink he let it trickle slowly down between the Indian's set teeth.

The effect was noticeable at once. Slowly the warm blood flowed back
into the dusky cheeks, the limbs began to twitch, the breathing grew
audible, and the wounded man began to show signs of returning
consciousness.

Before turning to his other patient, whom he reckoned as good as dead,
Charley stepped outside the wigwam and cast a quick look around. A
smile of satisfaction parted his lips as he noted the distant figures
of his companions behind the tree barricade, each at his post, gun in
hand, nervously alert. From them, his glance went on to the point,
where the battle was still going on. To even an unobserving person, it
was clear that the firing from the canoes was slackening rapidly, and
with a sigh of regret and anxiety, the lad turned back into the lean-to.

When he bent over the Indian lad, he uttered an exclamation of joy;
from the matted hair and abundance of blood he had believed him shot
through the head. A closer examination showed, however, that the
bullet had only ploughed a neat little furrow down to the skull.
Charley washed the wound clean, forced some of the brandy down the
boy's throat, and dashed a cup of cold water in his face. The effect
was startling. In a few minutes the little Indian was sitting up,
swaying drunkenly and in a half dazed way staring about the little
she