We can't leave him here.

There are wolves all around and the brutes always attack anything wounded." The Indian solved the problem.
"Huh!" he grunted contemptuously.

He took up his long hunting-knife.
"Wolf--this!" He drove the knife to the hilt into the ground.
"You go--my fadder come.

T'ree Indian," holding up three fingers.

"All right! Good!" He sank back upon the ground exhausted.
"Come on then, Mandy, we shall have to hurry." "No, you go.