onths."

"I thought you were rather young to be a wife. How old are you?"

"I am seventeen."

"Where is your home; where does your father live?"

"My father is in the Far North. I cannot go to him any more now. My man
has turned me out and tried to kill me, but yet I live. But there is
nothing for me now but to die."

"Indeed, you are not going to die. You are going to live with me until
you are well, then you can say what you are going to do."

"The white lady is too good to an Indian girl."

"No, that is only right. How do you feel now? Do you think you could
travel if I was to help you into my saddle?"

"I will do what my sister wishes," said the Indian girl simply, trying
to rise. But the effort was too much for her, and she sank back, the
blood spurting freshly from the wound.

"That won't do," said Stella, easing the girl back, and rolling up her
jacket and placing it under her head. "You are not able to leave here
yet. At least, you cannot ride."

The Indian girl was perfectly passive under Stella's guidance, and did
not think of having a will of her own.

"I wish one of the boys had come with me," Stella said to herself.
"Something always happens when I go away alone. I must get word to them
somehow."

"I am going to fire my revolver to bring help," said she to Singing
Bird. "You will not be frightened."

The other girl shook her head.

Stella fired her revolver three times, and waited for an answer, but
none came.

After waiting a while longer, she fired three more shots.

"No shoot again. Need bullets for wolves. Come around soon," said
Singing Bird.

The day was going fast, and soon it would be dark. She could not leave
the girl to go for help, for with the dark the wolves would come.

Singing Bird had fallen into a feverish doze, and Stella arose and
gathered up some dry wood from about the spring, and carried it to where
the girl was lying.

Stella had some matches in her outfit, and when it got dark she intended
lighting the fire, hoping that the boys would see it when they came to
look for her when she did not return at dark.

Again she brought water from the spring, and sat down beside her
new-found friend to bathe her head and reduce her fever.

As darkness fell she heard vague rustlings in the tall grass, and looked
carefully about. In the dim light she saw pale-green lights moving
about, and knew that the wolves had smelled blood, and were gathering.
But she was not afraid.