But the jackscrew! "Quonab, help him! For God's sake, come!" cried Rolf in agony, forgetting their feud and seeing only tortured, dying man.
The Indian gazed a moment, then rose quickly, and put on the jackscrew.
Under his deft fingers the first spring went down, but what about the other?
They had no other screw.

The long buckskin line they always carried was quickly lashed round and round the down spring to hold it.
Then the screw was removed and put on the other spring; it bent, and the jaws hung loose.

The Indian forced them wide open, drew out the mangled limbs, a the trapper was free, but so near death, it seemed they were too late.
Rolf spread his coat.

The Indian made a fire.

In fifteen minutes they were pouring hot tea between victim's lips.