We'll get the Police doctor!" said Allan in a tone of horrified disgust.
But Mandy was feeling the edge of the Indian's knife.
"Sharp enough," she said to herself.

"These ragged edges are just reeking with poison.

Can you stand it if I cut these bits off ?" she said to the Indian.
"Huh!" he replied with a grunt of contempt.

"No hurt." "Mandy, you can't do this! It makes me sick to see you," said her husband.
The Indian glanced with scorn at him, caught the knife out of Mandy's hand, took up a flap of lacerated flesh and cut it clean away.
"Huh! No-t'ing." Mandy took the knife from him, and, after boiling it for a few minutes, proceeded to cut away the ragged, mangled flesh and skin.

The Indian never winced.