Brace placed the point of the knife close to the shaft of the arrow, his hand trembling so that he could not keep the point still. Then he was as firm as a rock, for the thought came to him that he must be doing wrong to make so terrible a cut, and he knew that he risked dividing some important vessel. The knife fell into the bottom of the boat with a loud jangling sound, for the right idea had come, and Brace played the surgeon as if he had been trained to the profession. Keeping his left hand beneath his brother's arm just clear of the raised skin where the point of the arrow pressed, he seized the shaft firmly, gave a sudden thrust, and forced the arrow-head right through, keeping up the pressure till both barbs were well clear, and with them four or five inches of the thin bamboo. "Now, one of you," he cried to Dan, "pick up my knife and cut through the arrow." The man grasped the idea, and with one cut divided the shaft, while in less time than it takes to tell it Brace pulled with his left hand, and the part of the shaft in the wound was drawn right through, while the blood began to flow. The next moment Brace's lips were applied to the wound, first on one side and then on the other, making it bleed more freely; and this he supplemented by holding his brother's arm over the side and bathing and pressing the wound. "It may be a false alarm, lad," said Sir Humphrey, speaking slowly and calmly; "but it is as well to take the precaution." "Yes, of course," said Brace huskily, and his heart sank low and the chill of dread increased, for as he sucked the wound where the arrow had entered he was conscious of a strange pungent acid taste, which clung to his lips and caused a stinging sensation at the tip of his tongue. He scooped up a little water in the hollow of his hand and then snatched it away, flinging the water over his brother's face, for he was conscious of a sharp pricking sensation as if he had scarified the skin against a thorn. But he plunged his hand into the water again and raised it quickly to his mouth to wash away the bitter taste before applying his lips once more to the wounded arm. This time the water reached his mouth, but he felt a repetition of the pricking in his fingers, and to his astonishment two tiny silvery fish fell into the bottom of the boat, while he found that two of his fingers were red. But he had no time to think of self, and he worked hard bathing and encouraging the bleeding from both orifices of the wound and applying his lips to them again and again. Sir Humphrey was sitting motionless in the bottom of the boat with his back against the side, bearing the pain he suffered patiently, and lighting bravely to master the mental agony which attacked him with suggestions of all the horrors that attend a poisoned wound.