Heidelberg scar, Sam was commanding his forces of nature.

"Ugh--uu--ow, Sam," I shivered; but I came up under his arm and tried to
push one dripping section of old-roan hide until it joined the other,
though I couldn't quite make it. Over my shoulder Sam began to sew it
across with a huge crooked needle, helping me push the edges together as
best he could. At this auspicious moment the poet appeared at the barn
door in an absolutely dazed condition.

"Here you, Pete, too!" Sam commanded, without looking up. "Get here on
the other side and press the hide together as Betty is doing. This is
an awful long cut, but I can manage it, thanks to seeing Chubb sew up
Bates's mule. Whoah, Jude, old girl! Hold her steady, Mammy! Now, Pete,
press hard; never mind the blood!"

At Sam's determined reiteration of the word blood, my senses reeled, and
if it had been anybody but Sam sewing over my shoulder, I would have
gone down in a crumpled heap. Also I was stirred by one glance at
Peter's lovely long oval face with its Keats lock of jet-black hair
tossed aloft, and I remained conscious from astonishment.

This was a new Peter. His eyes burned in his face with determination. He
squared his legs, clad in his elegant idea of farming corduroys, at the
exact angle at which Sam's were set; then his long, white hands pulled
the bloody old hide together exactly in place.

"That's it, Pete, hold it there. You slip out, Betty, and hold Jude
while Mammy gets the hot water ready to wash it when it is finished.
Now, Pete, an inch farther along! Whoah, Jude!" And with his long needle
Sam began rapidly to draw the gaping wound together.