They soon came to Daisy's emptied chair, where she stood mounting guard over Sam.
The ankle was badly sprained; there was no doubt of that.

Sam not only could carry nobody; he must himself be carried.

The doctor ordered that Logan should take him on his back and convey him as far as the poor little house they had passed on the way.

A good lift it was, for Sam was a well grown, stout fellow; but Logan was a long-limbed, sinewy, brawny Scotchman, and he made no difficulty of the job.

The doctor in the first place deposited his gun against a tree, and did what was needful for the hurt ankle.
"Now," said he to Daisy, "how are you going to get forward ?" "I can walk the rest of the way," said Daisy.
"Pardon me.