Indians are simply watching and waiting."

"What for?"

"News. To see which way the cat jumps. Then--Steady, Ginger! What the
deuce! Whoa, I say! Hold hard, Mandy."

"What's the matter with them?"

"There's something in the bushes yonder. Coyote, probably. Listen!"

There came from a thick clump of poplars a low, moaning cry.

"What's that?" cried Mandy. "It sounds like a man."

"Stay where you are. I'll ride in."

In a few moments she heard his voice calling.

"Come along! Hurry up!"

A young Indian lad of about seventeen, ghastly under his copper skin
and faint from loss of blood, lay with his ankle held in a powerful
wolf-trap, a bloody knife at his side. With a cry Mandy was off her
horse and beside him, the instincts of the trained nurse rousing her to
action.

"Good Heavens! What a mess!" cried Cameron, looking helplessly upon the
bloody and mangled leg.

"Get a pail of water and get a fire going, Allan," she cried. "Quick!"

"Well, first this trap ought to be taken off, I should say."

"Quite right," she cried. "Hurry!"

Taking his ax from their camp outfit, he cut down a sapling, and, using
it as a lever, soon released the foot.

"How did all this mangling come?" said Mandy, gazing at the limb, the
flesh and skin of which were hanging in shreds about the ankle.

"Cutting it off, weren't you?" said Allan.

The Indian nodded.

Mandy lifted the foot up.

"Broken, I should say."

The Indian uttered not a sound.

"Run," she continued. "Bring a pail of water and get a fire going."

Allan was soon back with the pail of water.

"Me--water," moaned the Indian, pointing to the pail. Allan held it
to his lips and he drank long and deep. In a short time the fire was
blazing and the tea pail slung over it.

"If I only had my kit here!" said Mandy. "This torn flesh and skin ought
to be all cut away."

"Oh, I say, Mandy, you can't do that. We'll get the Police doctor!" said
Allan in a tone of horrified disgust.

But Mandy was feeling the edge of the Indian's knife.

"Sharp enough," she said to herself. "These ragged edges are just
reeking with poison. Can you stand it if I cut these bits off?" she said
to the Indian.

"Huh!" he replied with a grunt of contempt. "No hurt."

"Mandy, you can't do this! It makes me sick to see you," said her
husband.

The Indian glanced with scorn at him, caught the knife out of Mandy's
hand, took up a flap of lacerated flesh and cut it clean away.

"Huh