" Migwan had had First-Aid work and had learned to
set dislocations, so she slipped the joint back into place before
it could get a chance to swell, and bound it fast with a strip of
the bandage the girls always carried with them. At that the pain
made her sick to her stomach and she lay back, her head reeling.
When she could see clearly again she sat up and looked around.
It was nearly dark, as the thick pines shut out the declining
rays of the sun. She called aloud till the echoes rang, but
there was no answering call. The gravity of the situation came
home to her, but Migwan was not one to whimper. She had nothing
with her to eat, but there was clear water at hand and she drank
and bathed her scratched face and hands. Then she lay still and
thought things out.

"They'll surely find me sometime," she reflected, "for Hinpoha
knows which path I took. The cave-in will tell the tale.
There's nothing in the woods to hurt me, either man or beast. My
knee is back in joint and will begin to heal while I stay here.
Things might have been worse." Beside her lay a dry pine tree
and she chopped it up and built a fire. For a long time she lay
looking up at the great pines above her, lost in romantic
fancies, her beautiful, expressive eyes shining in the firelight.
By and by she slept, her head pillowed on her sweater.

She was aroused by the squalling of the jays in the pine trees.
Sunlight was filtering down through the branches. She felt
chilly from her sleep on the ground, although the trees had kept
the dew from her. Sitting up, she exercised her arms to get up
the circulation. Then, leaning on a heavy stick and hobbling on
one foot, she began to look about her. Not far from where she
had fallen there was an opening in the undergrowth and through
this Migwan could see another path about six feet lower down the
slope.

"I wonder if they would come this way," thought Migwan. "I had
better put a blaze in the road so they can find me." She was
casting about for something that would attract the attention of
the searchers when she heard footsteps coming down the path.
"They're coming," she thought, and was just ready to fall on
Hinpoha's neck, when out of the woods came two men, one of them
carrying a little boy. A few paces from where Migwan stood,
hidden by a large tree trunk, they came to a halt, and the one
man, pulling out a purse, began to count money. The little boy
was dressed in a white sailor suit a