He marked the entrance of the bullet, and concluded that it had just touched the upper lobe of her lung.

Perhaps the wound in the lung had also closed.
As he began to wash the blood stains from her breast and carefully rebandage the wound, he was vaguely conscious of a strange, grave happiness in the thought that she might live.
Broad daylight and a hint of sunshine high on the cliff-rim to the west brought him to consideration of what he had better do.

And while busy with his few camp tasks he revolved the thing in his mind.

It would not be wise for him to remain long in his present hiding-place.

And if he intended to follow the cattle trail and try to find the rustlers he had better make a move at once.