As there was not a moment to be lost, we first bound up his wounds, and then ordering our people to assist us we lifted him from the ground and hurried towards the fort, meeting on our way Uncle Donald, who had the gate open to admit us.  Without stopping we carried the wounded man into the house, where my father, who had risen, was ready with bandages and salves to attend to him.  My mother, meantime, was preparing some strong broth, which our prisoner eagerly swallowed.  It had an almost instantaneous effect in reviving him.  Uncle Donald, who had in the meantime been going round the fort to ascertain if more wounded had been left in its neighbourhood, now entered the room, and as his eye fell on the countenance of our captive, he exclaimed, "Ponoko!  Do you remember your white friend?"