He tugged hard. Satan whinnied his doubt, and
the growl of Black Bart answered, half a threat.
In a moment more they were picking their way through
the brush towards the house of Buck Daniels.
Satan was far gone with exhaustion. His head
drooped; his legs sprawled with every step; his eyes
were glazed. Yet he staggered on with the great
black wolf pulling at the reins. There was the
salt taste of blood in the mouth of Black Bart; so
he stalked on, saliva dripping from his mouth, and
his eyes glazed with the lust to kill. His furious
snarling was the threat which urged on the stallion.
BLACK BART TURNS NURSE
It was old Mrs. Daniels who woke first at the sound
of scratching and growling. She roused her husband
and son, and all three went to the door, Buck in the
lead with his six-gun in his hand. At sight of
the wolf he started back and raised the gun, but Black
Bart fawned about his feet.
“Don’t shoot—it’s a dog,
an’ there’s his master!” cried Sam.
“By the Lord, they’s a dead man tied on
that there hoss!”
Dan lay on Satan, half fallen from the saddle, with
his head hanging far down, only sustained by the strength
of the rein. The stallion, wholly spent, stood
with his legs braced, his head low, and his breath
coming in great gasps. The family ran to the rescue.
Sam cut the rein and Buck lowered the limp body in
his arms.
“Buck, is he dead?” whispered Mrs. Daniels.
“I don’t feel no heart beat,” said
Buck. “Help me fetch him into the house,
Dad!”
“Look out for the hoss!” cried Sam.
Buck started back with his burden just in time, for
Satan, surrendering to his exhaustion, pitched to
the ground, and lay with sprawling legs like a spent
dog rather than a horse.
“Let the hoss be,” said Buck. “Help
me with the man. He’s hurt bad.”
Mrs. Daniels ran ahead and lighted a lamp. They
laid the body carefully upon a bed. It made a
ghastly sight, the bloodless face with the black hair
fallen wildly across the forehead, the mouth loosely
open, and the lips black with dust.
“Dad!” said Buck. “I think
I’ve seen this feller. God knows if he’s
livin’ or dead.”
He dropped to his knees and pressed his ear over Dan’s
heart.
“I can’t feel no motion. Ma, get
that hand mirror—”
She had it already and now held it close to the lips
of the wounded man. When she drew it away their
three heads drew close together.
“They’s a mist on it! He’s
livin’!” cried Buck.
“It ain’t nothing,” said Sam.
“The glass ain’t quite clear, that’s
all.”
Mrs. Daniels removed the last doubt by running her
finger across the surface of the glass. It left
an unmistakable mark.
They wasted no moment then. They brought hot
and cold water, washed out his wound, cleansed away
the blood; and while Mrs. Daniels and her husband
fixed the bandage, Buck pounded and rubbed the limp
body to restore the circulation. In a few minutes
his efforts were rewarded by a great sigh from Dan.
