But I felt that my life was saved; and Bowen fixed up a place on the couch for her to sleep, and Jack went over to the unoccupied room on the other side of the cabin and took possession of the absent doctor's bed.
I begged Jack to hunt up a Spanish dictionary, and fortunately one was found at the cutler's store, which, doubtless the cutler or his predecessor had brought into the country years before.
The girl did not know anything.

I do not think she had ever been inside a casa before.

She had washed herself in mountain streams, and did not know what basins and sponges were for.

So it was of no use to point to the objects I wanted.
I propped myself up in bed and studied the dictionary, and, having some idea of the pronunciation of Latin languages, I essayed to call for warm water and various other necessary articles needed around a sick bed.
Sometimes I succeeded in getting an idea through her impervious brain, but more often she would stand dazed and immovable and I would let the dictionary drop from my tired hands and fall back upon the pillow in a sweat of exhaustion.

Then Bowen would be called in, and with the help of some perfunctory language and gestures on his part, this silent creature of the mountains would seem to wake up and try to understand.
And so I worried through those dreadful days--and the nights! Ah! we had better not describe them.