“No, reckon we can’t,” Pa replied, as he tried to lift the Indian boy from the tangled underbrush. But the boy’s body was enmeshed in a stout wild grapevine. Pa took out his long knife and began slashing at the tangled vine. At this moment, the Indian boy groaned and opened his eyes. He looked up at the Hudsons in alarm. When he saw Pa’s long knife, he was terrified and cried out, “_Shemolsea! Shemolsea!_” “What did you say?” Jim asked, but the boy had lost consciousness again. When Pa had freed the boy from the vine, he gathered him in his arms and turned to Jim. “You go ahead with the rifle, Jim, and Ma, you walk behind me. Mind you both keep a sharp lookout. We’ll have to take him back to the cabin.” “But Pa,” put in Jim, “what’ll we do about the horse?” He nodded toward the animal standing a few feet away. “Bring him along. And tie him up in our lean-to next to Nellie. But not too close to our horse. She might nip him.” The Hudsons took the boy and his horse back to their cabin without seeing another human being. While Jim tethered the horse at a safe distance from Nellie, Ma flew about the cabin getting water, her home-made soap, and clean rags for Pa. He set the wounded boy’s broken bone as best he could, supporting it with a rude splint. Then with Ma’s help, he washed the wound with soap and bound the shoulder with rags to hold the bone securely in place. When they had finished Pa shook his head. “I’m afraid he’s lost a lot of blood. He’ll be a while getting well.” Ma turned to Jim who was standing in the doorway of the cabin. “Jim, we’ll have to put him in your bed. He’s awfully weak.” Jim nodded. “Sure, Ma. He’s welcome to it. I can sleep on the floor.” Pa Hudson laid the boy carefully on Jim’s bed, muttering all the while. “I don’t like harboring an Indian in my house. No, sir, I don’t.” Then he turned to Jim. “You stand guard at the door with Ma’s rifle and I’ll go back for the melons. Some Indians might come swooping in here to get him.” Ma’s eyes flashed as she stooped to pick up her rifle from the floor. “No, Jim. You go help your pa. I’ll stand guard.” “All right. We’ll be right back,” Jim said; he dashed out to join his father. When they had brought all the melons up to the cabin and stacked them in the shade, they fed and watered the Indian boy’s horse. Inside the cabin again they found the boy sound asleep. Now and then, Ma glanced at him as she prepared supper. “Shall we wake him, Pa, and give him something to eat?” Pa studied the Indian for a few minutes. “No. He’s breathing all right but seems in pain. Probably wouldn’t want to eat anyway. Let’s not bother him.” After supper the Hudsons conversed in low tones. “Where do you suppose he came from, Pa?” Ma asked. Pa shrugged. “I’ve no idea, but now we know the Indians have been near our farm.”