West now watched for the stage, standing near Mauchacho, first releasing the horse which he had thrown. With trailing reins the animal now stood quietly beside Eagle, who seemed to be looking at him with “horse” contempt. Just then the stage came in sight from behind a rise, and West swung upon Mauchacho, hastening to hail it. Soon Bess could see the men hurrying to where she sat with her again unconscious burden. With a strong blanket for a stretcher, four of them carefully placed the wounded man upon it, and bore him to the stage. James brought Eagle and Davis’ horse, while Bess walked behind, leading Mauchacho. Carefully they placed Davis in the stage. James insisted that his sister continue her journey in the vehicle while he rode with West. They stopped at the bridge to water the horses, and then proceeded slowly on their way. Bess was doing everything in her power to alleviate the pain of the man, whose head now rested against her shoulder. She did not move, and scarcely dared to breathe, lest she should disturb him. She could feel the damp, cold drops of perspiration standing out like beads on the white forehead and the bruised cheek. So great was her sympathy that she, too, seemed to be in the torture of pain. The other occupants of the stage watched her with interest and appreciation. West rode near to tell her that James and he would hasten on and have a more comfortable conveyance at Polson by which to bring Mr. Davis to the _HW_ Ranch. CHAPTER V THE MOTLEY SPECTATORS AT POLSON It was nearly one o’clock when the stage reached Polson, at the foot of the Lake. As it drove up in front of the hotel Bess saw that James and Henry West had already arrived. A curious and anxious crowd were gathered in the road and on the porch, each one striving to get a look at the Indian Agent, of whose accident they had already heard. It was a motley crowd; here and there were blanketed Indians with their squaws and papooses and numerous mangy curs; in groups were standing the lighter colored half-breeds, some in white men’s clothing, others with blankets carelessly folded about them. Some were fastidious in their beaded leggings and wide-brimmed hats, their gay-colored ’kerchiefs and shirts, while others were scarcely able to hide their copper-colored bodies with their scanty possessions, so unfortunate had they been in their last gambling game. Several white men and women could also be seen intermingling with the Indians or standing aloof beside the buildings. They were evidently passengers en route across the reservation, or waiting to go up the Flathead Lake and river to Kalispell. The _Klondyke_ had been steamed up and ready to leave for more than an hour. The passengers hurried to get aboard, the whistle blew and the boat started slowly to steam out into the Lake.