He sat up, cut loose his snowshoes, closed the open door, and rid himself of his snow-laden outer garments.

Then, by a supreme effort, he managed to drag the unconscious man to a bed that was piled with robes and lean him against it.

His eyes had already lighted on a jug of water, and fetching this he bathed the sufferer's face, washed the blood from his mouth, and finally had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes unclose.
Then he helped him on to the bed, and though during the operation the man's face expressed the most intense pain, he uttered no sound.

But the movement was accompanied by another hemorrhage, so severe that it seemed to our distressed lad as though the man must surely bleed to death before it was checked.

When it finally ceased the exhausted sufferer dropped asleep, and, for the first time since entering that place of mysteries, Cabot found an opportunity for looking about him.
Although the room was small it was comfortably furnished with a table, chairs--one of which was a rocker--a lounge, and the bed on which the man-wolf lay.