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Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"The Flaming Forest"


And as he stared, the door opened, and Nepapinas came in.


XII

During the next quarter of an hour David was as silent as the old
Indian doctor. He was conscious of no pain when Nepapinas took off
his bandage and bathed his head in the lotion he had brought.
Before a fresh bandage was put on, he looked at himself for a
moment in the mirror. It was the first time he had seen his wound,
and he expected to find himself marked with a disfiguring scar. To
his surprise there was no sign of his hurt except a slightly
inflamed spot above his temple. He stared at Nepapinas, and there
was no need of the question that was in his mind.
The old Indian understood, and his dried-up face cracked and
crinkled in a grin. "Bullet hit a piece of rock, an' rock, not
bullet, hit um head," he explained. "Make skull almost break--bend
um in--but Nepapinas straighten again with fingers, so-so." He
shrugged his thin shoulders with a cackling laugh of pride as he
worked his claw-like fingers to show how the operation had been
done.
David shook hands with him in silence; then Nepapinas put on the
fresh bandage, and after that went out, chuckling again in his
weird way, as though he had played a great joke on the white man
whom his wizardry had snatched out of the jaws of death.


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