She saw the blood trickling from his face and knew that he was dreadfully injured.

The missionary, too, began to become more calm and collected; and yet, while regretting the occasion, he could but think he had done his simple duty to his insulted wife.

Had he been prepared as he entered the door, he would have shot the savage dead in his tracks.
Harvey picked up his rifle that lay in the middle of the floor, and approached the prostrate Indian.

After pushing and shaking, he gave signs of returning consciousness, and at length arose to his feet.
His nose had bled copiously, and one eye was "closed," as if he had been under the manipulation of some pugilist.
The wife brought a basin of water, and offered a bandage, while Harvey proffered his assistance.

But the Indian, without speaking, motioned them aside, and made his way out the door.