erties, and bruising them extracted their juice which was
given to the patient, while a tea made by soaking slippery elm bark,
was his constant drink. It all seemed to do no good; for his fever rose
higher and burned fiercer, until his brain wandered, his eyes grew
wild, and his skin became dry and husky. He raved alternately of home
and his wanderings. At one time, talking familiarly with his friends,
as though he was by the old fireside in Missouri, then in piteous
accents calling on some one to save him from the fire of the cannibals
who he said were roasting him, alternately with praying them to kill
him with their arrows to end his sufferings. Again, he imagined the
wolf was at his throat, and it then required all their tact to soothe,
and keep him from tossing about, and again displacing the fractured
bones of his shoulder.

They built a hut of boughs, making the corners of four saplings which
they cut off at the proper height, where they formed a crotch
supporting strong poles, across which other poles were laid, and which
they covered with hemlock boughs; this again was covered with bark they
had detached from fallen trees, and which made a good defence against
heat or rain. The sides were fitted up the same way, with the exception
of a door which they closed by a large piece of bark, when they
desired.

Day after day went by, and though they could not see that their patient
was better, yet he was, certainly, no worse. This encouraged them.

"If we can keep him quiet, so as to give the mangled bones time to set,
the fever will die off itself. For, no doubt, it is caused by the
irritation of the wounds," said the trapper.

"If the Medicine Man[9] of the Arapahoes was here, to pow-wow the
disease, the young brave would live," said the chief.

[9] Physician.

"That would only frighten him," said Edward, who had often seen this
same mode of curing diseases exercised, and had no very high opinion of
it.

"The more complete the fright, the sooner the recovery," retorted the
chief.

"Suppose you pow-wow him," said the trapper, "you know the virtue lies
in you by your right of chief, if you choose to exercise it, which you
should be willing to do, if it would heal him."

"Oh! no, no; don't think of such a thing, he could not bear it. The
least noise makes him worse, even the chirping of the birds and
squirrels in the trees overhead, irritates him; and only an hour ago, I
had to lead the goat and her ki