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“Here; I’ll fix it up,” proffered a quiet man, who had not been saying much. Now noticing him, Davy thought that he was the finest figure in the whole party. This man was young (he could not have been more than twenty, but this pioneer life turned youths into men early) and was splendidly built. He stood a straight six feet, with slim waist and broad shoulders and flat back; his hair was long and light yellow, and his wavy moustache also was light yellow. His eyes were wide and steel gray, his nose hawk-like, his chin square and firm. His clothes fitted him well, and were worn with an easy grace. About his strong neck was loosely knotted a red silk handkerchief.

“All right, Bill,” responded Mr. Woods, sitting down. “’Twon’t need much, except a little washing.”

Bill calmly proceeded to inspect the arrow wound in the shoulder. Other men were hastily producing food from the wagons.

“Here, Red,” they bade, to Davy; and sitting in the half circle with Mr. Lew and Billy Cody, Davy gladly ate. It seemed good to be with white people again.