“Let my brothers go on. When Whirlwind is well Deerfoot will join them,” he said, addressing the three. “How far shall we go?” asked George. “My brothers will go as far as they can. Deerfoot will find them when Whirlwind is able to walk without pain. It may be one, or two or three days, but Deerfoot will have no trouble, for the trail will be plain.” The Shawanoe and Blackfoot talked for a few minutes in order to perfect an understanding, and then the three rode off, leaving Deerfoot alone with Whirlwind, to whom he gave his full attention. No mother ever passed her cool hand across the fevered brow of her child more lovingly than did the young Shawanoe fondle the sensitive knee of the mettled steed. The latter did not twitch or resent the caress, for the magnetism of the touch, its gentleness and the soothing words were worth more than any medicinal oil could have been. The soft, cool palm slid over the silken hair like the brush of down. The motion was always toward the hoof and never up the limb “against the grain.” Sometimes, while one hand was thus employed, the other patted the nose that was bent down in acknowledgment of the kindness. When finally Deerfoot stepped back and straightened up, Whirlwind stood firmly on all his legs. Had his master called for it, he would have galloped off with hardly a perceptible limp. But Deerfoot had no such thought. That knee should not be permitted to go into service until as strong and sound as the other. While the injury was insignificant, it was sure to become worse through unwise treatment. All that was necessary was to give nature a chance; she always strives to right such matters, and the most that medical skill can do is to help, and all too often the effort proves a hindrance rather than an aid. The downy rubbing was repeated at intervals and did much good. Whirlwind showed his appreciation by lowering his head and resting his nose on the shoulder of the stooping Deerfoot, whose heart responded to the caress. He felt that they had become real friends. Some time later he coaxed Whirlwind to lie down. The stallion was reluctant at first, for a horse dislikes to do this except when tired out, and then he is often satisfied with rolling on his back, but he yielded. Then Deerfoot plucked several handfuls of grass, cutting off the roots with his knife, and fed them to his friend, who ate probably to please him, for surely he could not have been hungry. Now and then the knee was tenderly kneaded, and certainly improved, if indeed it was not already cured. When at last the chilly night closed in, the young Shawanoe lay down beside Whirlwind, so arranging the blanket that it covered both, and their bodies were mutually warmed by the contact. Physician and patient were doing well, thank you. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER XII A HURRIED FLIGHT.