Building a huge fire and hanging the ribs of the doe on a spit before it, he anxiously awaited their appearance.
Half an hour later he heard the shout which brought him quickly to where Wabi was holding the partly unconscious form of Rod in his arms.
It took but a few moments to carry the injured youth to camp, and not until Rod was resting upon a pile of blankets in their shack, with the warmth of the fire reviving him, did Wabi vouchsafe an explanation to the old Indian.
"I guess he's got a broken arm, Muky," he said.

"Have you any hot water ?" "Shot ?" asked the old hunter, paying no attention to the question.

He dropped upon his knees beside Rod, his long brown fingers reaching out anxiously.

"Shot ?" "No--hit with a club.

We met three Indian hunters who were in camp and who invited us to eat with them.