n could be."

"Only a trick learned from the environment," I lightly replied. "Does it
hurt much?" This was rhetorical, for I knew a stab wound from the cane
smarted and ached most disagreeably.

"Not much," she bravely replied. "I'm sorry to bother you, though."

"You'll soon be as fit as a fiddle," I assured her. "Border men are
continually helping each other in this fashion."

As soon as the kettle boiled I washed the wound in the liquid and made
sure all of the cane had been removed. This additional probing caused her
pain but she showed no signs not even by flinching. The application at
once had a soothing effect. We waited until the medicine had cooked down
to a jelly-like consistency, when I applied it as a salve, working it into
and thoroughly covering the wound. Then I tied it up with a strip torn
from her skirt. Rather rough surgery, but I knew it would be effective.

She bitterly lamented over the time we were losing, and blamed herself so
severely that I finally consented to go on, providing she would keep
behind me. Had the hurt been in her foot we would have been forced to camp
for several days.

Toward night the country grew more broken and much rougher, and I knew we
were nearing the Sandy. I feared she might trip over some obstacle, and we
camped before the light deserted us. I told her we were within a few miles
of the river and that we ought to strike it at the mouth of Savage Creek,
some four or five miles from the Ohio. After starting a fire, she
volunteered to remain and feed it while I looked for game. This in the way
of doing penance, perhaps. I had the good luck to shoot a deer and we
dined on venison.

After we had eaten she sat close by the fire and was silent for many
minutes. That she was meditating deeply was shown by her indifference to
the night sounds which usually perturbed her. The howling of the wolves,
and the scream of a panther, leaping to make a kill, passed unheard.
Suddenly she declared:

"You were right, Basdel."

"About what, Patsy?"

"About my not fitting in west of the mountains."

"That was said before you were tried. No woman, even border-born, could be
more brave than you have been."

"And I was so woefully wrong when I made fun of your long rifle. I want
you to forgive me."

"Patsy, don't. You are wonderful."

"Still being good to me, Basdel. But I know the truth now. Back over the
mountains I was wicked enough to feel a little superior to frontier folks