He lay with eyes closed, and so pallid was his face and so perfectly motionless his limbs that he might have been dead.

With deft hands she cleansed the wounds.
"Now, Allan, you must help me.

We must have splints for this ankle." "How would birch-bark do ?" he suggested.
"No, it's too flimsy." "The heavy inner rind is fairly stiff." He ran to a tree and hacked off a piece.
"Yes, that will do splendidly.

Get some about so long." Half an hour's work, and the wounded limb lay cleansed, bandaged, packed in soft moss and bound in splints.
"That's great, Mandy!" exclaimed her husband.

"Even to my untutored eyes that looks like an artistic bit of work.