For their part, the men were as silent as rocks. Their eyes were open, but their muscles were paralyzed.
At the creek, Monda-ak rushed in and put his injured snout under the cold water again and again.
Senta-eh laid Harta-ak crossways so that the water poured over him, then propped his head and neck against a flat rock.
“Make sure we keep their heads above water, even though they have many stings there. If they slip beneath the water, they will drown.”
Versa-eh said, “Aye,” and laid Alex the same way. “What now?”
“The water isn’t deep enough,” Senta-eh said. “Let’s move some rocks to create a pool.”
The women spent the better part of an hour doing just that, damming up the creek and making a pool of water.
Monda-ak finally emerged from the pool and plopped on the side of the bank, scratching at his nose. Senta-eh hurried over and saw that the poisonous barb was still there. She stroked Monda-ak’s head and, as gently as possible, pulled the stinger out.
Monda-ak sighed in relief, closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
“Let’s do the same for them—make sure the stingers are out.”
Senta-eh kneeled in the pool beside Alex and unwound the bits of vine that still clung to him. Every inch of skin she exposed was swollen and red. When she had thrown the last vestiges of rope away, she removed his clothes and winced when she saw the true damage that had been done to him.
His hands and fingers were so swollen that they didn’t even resemble their original form. That swelling extended virtually everywhere.
She glanced at Versa-eh. “They have absorbed so much poison, I don’t know if they will recover.”
“Of course they will. They have to. I won’t be alone here,” Versa-eh said with determination. She positioned herself between the two men so she could reach them both, then said, “You should go and pick the leaves and roots and berries and whatever we need to be able to treat them. I will watch them until you get back.”
Her words were firm, but her chin wavered uncertainly.
Senta-eh was gone for several hours, and Versa-eh had begun to wonder if she had met with some bad end. When she finally returned, she was empty-handed.
“I gathered what I think we need and took it back to the camp. I have prepared a bed for them. I think the water has done what healing it can. Let’s carry them back.”
It was dark by the time Senta-eh had mixed enough of the paste to cover all the stings and both Harta-ak and Alex looked like mud mummies, covered in the cure from head to toe.
Versa-eh held Harta-ak’s unmoving hand and said, “They will be all right now.”
Senta-eh reached out and touched her shoulder. “I am not so sure they will. This remedy is meant to treat a single sting, or perhaps two or three. They were each stung dozens and dozens of times. I don’t know if this will draw out enough of the poison. There is a root that will bring poison to the surface, but I cannot find it.”
Versa-eh, who normally seemed so confident in so many situations, looked scared. “What can we do?”
“I need to go to Rinta-ah. It is not far. They will have a real healer there. She might have the root we need. But I will be gone for some time. I will have to build a fire to signal them, cross the river, find the healer, and bring her here.”
“Yes,” Versa-eh said, glad to see a viable path of action open in front of her. “You go. Monda-ak and I will stay here and guard them.” She laid a long stabbing knife across her lap. “I will not let any harm come to them.”
Without another word, Senta-eh jumped on her horse and kicked her heels.
Camp was eerily silent—Monda-ak’s panting was the only sound.
From time to time, either Harta-ak or Alex seized up and had trouble breathing. When that happened, Versa-eh would lift them into a sitting position, make sure their airways were clear, and massage their chest. Each time, it was enough that they would once again breathe on their own.
It was a long night. Versa-eh did not dare sleep, but kept the fire built up and scanned the perimeter for the reflective glow from staring eyes.
A few hours after dawn, Senta-eh returned with four Rinta-ah warriors and a middle-aged woman. The warriors and woman were on foot, as it was impossible to get horses across the river.
The woman was the Rinta-ah healer and she had brought her healing bag with her. When she kneeled between the two men and moved the blanket away from them, she gasped.
“You said they were bad, but I did not imagine this. I have never seen so many wasta-ta stings.” She sat on her heels, lost in thought. “I will treat them as best I can here, but we will want to take them back to Rinta-ah, where I can care for them properly.” She turned to the four warriors. “Make me a litter for each of them. We can use the horses to bring us to the river.”
Versa-eh and Senta-eh packed up the camp, and within the hour, Alex and Harta-ak were on makeshift litters and being dragged along the trail.
By nightfall, they were safely within the village, and the healer and her assistants cared for them in a small hut with only two cots.
Senta-eh, Monda-ak, and Versa-eh sat outside with their backs against the wall, waiting for word.
Eventually, the healer emerged and said, “I’ve never seen anything like it. I don’t know why they are not dead. We always believed that six stings will paralyze you, and ten or more will kill you. By all rights, they should be dead. You did the right thing by bringing them to me. Out there, they would have died. They still may, but I will do what I can.”
Three more days passed
