"That’s easier than the thigh, at all events. Come on.  I’ll leave you to chop out splints while I run for an old sheet for bandages."  She ran towards the wood-heap, but paused on the way to pick up an old paling. "That will do, I think," she said, and knitted her brows, striving to think of long-forgotten instructions.  "I can’t be perfectly certain of the lengths, but if you will cut it here—and here—it should be about right."