Luckily, I wasn't lost for very long before Goliath and Cap found me.
It was nearly dawn when they carried Don out of camp and down the mountain to the lodge with me trailing slowly, tiredly behind.
Despite my very emotional arguments, Don refused to go to the hospital. The two men helped him tape up his ribs, and he swallowed a fist-full of aspirin, fed the ecstatic Zip, and held an ice pack to his face while he moved slowly around the lab checking on experiments. Finally, he settled into a chair near Cap and Goliath. They graciously accepted my offer of coffee and cold pizza but remained standing. I fed Emmett pieces of my crust and sipped at my own cup as I listened, bleary-eyed and exhausted. Don had indeed known the dead men, had shared rabbit stew with them made over their own fire
