"Any life, sergeant?" he demanded, his voice rendered husky by sympathy.
"He doesn't seem entirely gone, sir," and Carson glanced up into the
officer's face, his own eyes filled with feeling. "I can distinguish
just a wee bit of breathing, but it's so weak the pulse hardly stirs."
"What do you make of it?"
"Starving at the bottom, sir. The only thing I see now is to get them
down to water and food."
The young officer glanced swiftly about him across that dreary picture
of sun-burnt, desolate prairie stretching in every direction, his eyes
pausing slightly as they surveyed the tops of the distant cottonwoods.
"Sling blankets between your horses," he commanded, decisively. "Move
quickly, lads, and we may save one of these lives yet."
He led in the preparation himself, his cheeks flushed, his movements
prompt, decisive. As if by some magic discipline the rude, effective
litters were rapidly made ready, and the two seemingly lifeless bodies
gently lifted from off the ground and deposited carefully within. Down
the long, brown slope they advanced slowly, a soldier grasping the rein
and walking at each horse's head, the supporting blankets, securely
fastened about the saddle pommels, swaying gently to the measured tread
of the trained animals. The lieutenant directed every movement, while
Carson rode ahead, picking out the safest route through the short
grass. Beneath the protecting shadows of the first group of
cottonwoods, almost on the banks of the muddy Bear Water, the little
party let down their senseless burdens, and began once more their
seemingly hopeless efforts at resuscitation. A fire was hastily
kindled from dried and broken branches, and broth was made, which was
forced through teeth that had to be pried open. Water was used
unsparingly, the soldiers working with feverish eagerness, inspired by
the constant admonitions of their officer, as well as their own
curiosity to learn the facts hidden behind this tragedy.
It was the dark eyes of the girl which opened first, instantly closing
again as the glaring light swept into them. Then slowly, and with
wonderment, she gazed up into those strange, rough faces surrounding
her, pausing in her first survey to rest her glance on the sympathetic
countenance of the young lieutenant, who held her half reclining upon
his arm.
"Here," he exclaimed, kindly, interpreting her glance as one of fear,
"you are all right and perfectly safe now, with friends to care for
you. Peters, bring another cup of that broth. Now, miss, just take a
sup or two of this, and your strength will come back in a jiffy. What
was the trouble? Starving?"