He sat up,
cut loose his snowshoes, closed the open door, and rid himself of his
snow-laden outer garments. Then, by a supreme effort, he managed to
drag the unconscious man to a bed that was piled with robes and lean
him against it. His eyes had already lighted on a jug of water, and
fetching this he bathed the sufferer's face, washed the blood from his
mouth, and finally had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes unclose.
Then he helped him on to the bed, and though during the operation the
man's face expressed the most intense pain, he uttered no sound. But
the movement was accompanied by another hemorrhage, so severe that it
seemed to our distressed lad as though the man must surely bleed to
death before it was checked. When it finally ceased the exhausted
sufferer dropped asleep, and, for the first time since entering that
place of mysteries, Cabot found an opportunity for looking about him.
Although the room was small it was comfortably furnished with a table,
chairs--one of which was a rocker--a lounge, and the bed on which the
man-wolf lay. There were no windows nor doors except those in front.
The ceiling was of heavy canvas tightly stretched, while the walls were
hung with the skins of fur-bearing animals, and the floor was covered
with rugs of the same material. At first Cabot paid no attention to
these details, for his eyes were fixed upon the most astonishing thing
he had seen in all Labrador.
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