CHAPTER XVIII
NIGHT LANDING--CARRYING A WOUNDED PERSON--SETTING ONE'S OWN LIMBS WHENBROKEN--SPLINTING A LIMB--REST TO THE WEARY
It was a picturesque scene as the raft drew near shore. The softmoonlight upon the bluff--the faint sparkle of the briny water broken bythe oars--the lurid light from the resinous fire--the dark shadows andexcited movements of Mary and Frank--formed altogether a group worthy ofa painter's skill.
Frank could scarcely be restrained from rushing through the water towelcome the new comer; but when he heard how weak he was, and in whatbad condition, he waited in quietness. Harold took him in his arms, andRobert made a stepping place for Mary with the oars, and they both shookhands with the poor fellow, and told him how sorry they were to see himso badly hurt.
Leaving Harold and Frank at the raft, Robert and Mary hastened to thetent to prepare a place for the invalid, that he need not be disturbedafter being once removed. They lit a candle, piled the trunks in acorner of the room, and taking most of the moss that constituted theirbeds, laid it in another corner, remarking, "We can easily obtain more;or we can even sleep on the ground tonight, if necessary, for his sake."
"I wish we had an old door, or even a plank long enough for him to lieupon, as we bring him from the raft," said Robert, "it would be so mucheasier to his broken bones, if they could be kept straight. But theblanket is next best, and with that we must be content."
By the time the transfer was completed, the boys were exceedingly weary,having been disturbed all the preceding night, and engaged in vigorousand incessant effort ever since they arose from their short sleep. Theysat for half an hour revelling in the luxury of rest. Sam appeared tosuffer so much and to be so weak, that they discouraged him fromtalking, and took their own seats outside the tent, that he might beable to sleep.
"What have you done with the fawn, sister?" inquired Robert, willing todivert their minds from the painful thoughts that were beginning tofollow the excitement of hearing from home.
"O, we fed it with sassafras leaves and grass," said she, "and gave itwater. After that we sewed the torn skin to its place upon the neck,and it appears to be doing very well."
"You are quite a surgeon, cousin Mary," Harold remarked. "I think weshall have to call you our 'Sister of Mercy.' If, however, ourhandkerchiefs are still tied to it, I will suggest that it may be bestfor it, as well as for us, that you make a soft pad for its neck, andput on the dog's collar."
"We have done that already," she replied. "I thought of it as soon aswe returned to the tent and saw the dog's chain. But as for my being asurgeon, it requires very little skill to know that the sooner a freshwound is attended to, and the parts brought to the right place forhealing the better."
"That is a fact," said Robert, starting, as a deep groan from the tentreached his ears; "and that reminds me that perhaps Sam is suffering atthis moment for the want of having his bones set. We must attend tothem at once."
"Set a broken arm and leg!" exclaimed Harold in surprise. "Why, Robert,do you know how to do it?"
"Certainly," he replied. "There is no mystery about it; and father, youknow, teaches us children everything of the kind, as soon as we are ableto learn it. I have never set the bones of a _person_, but I did onceof a dog, and succeeded very well."
Harold asked him to describe the process. Robert replied, "If the bonesappear to have moved from their proper place, all that you have to do isto pull them apart lengthways by main strength so that they willnaturally slide together, or else can be made to do so by the pressureof your hand. Then you must bandage the limb with strips of cloth,beginning at its extremity, so as to keep the parts in place; and overthis you must bind a splint, to keep the bone from being bent or jostledout of place. That is all."
They went into the tent, and made inquiry of Sam whether his bones didnot need attention. He replied that maybe his leg was in need ofsetting, but that as for his arm he had _sot_ that himself, and that itwas in need only of splintering.
"You set it yourself! Why, how did you manage that?" inquired Robert.
"You remember, Mas Robbut, I bin hab my arm broke once befo'e; so Iknowed jes what to do," replied Sam, and then he went on to describe hisprocess. He said that finding the bones out of place, he had tied thehand of his broken arm to a root of the cedar, and strained himself backuntil the bones were able to pass, when he pressed them into place bymeans of his well hand.
After that he tore some strips from his clothing, and tied the hand overhis breast, at the same time stuffing his bosom full of moss, to keepthe bone straight, and over all passing a bandage, to keep the armagainst his side. He had made a similar attempt to set the bone of hisleg, but it pained him so much that he had given up the attempt.
On examination, Robert learned that the arm was broken between the elbowand shoulder, and that the leg was fractured between the knee and ankle."The leg," said he, "is safe enough. Below the knee are two bones, andonly one of these is broken. Would you like to have the bandage andsplints put on your arm tonight?"
Sam replied that he was sure he should sleep better if Mas Robert wasnot too tired to attend to it, for he would be "mighty onrestless" whilehis bones were in that "fix."
The wearied boy pondered a moment, and asked his sister to tear one ofthe sheets or table-cloths into strips about as wide as her threefingers, and to sew the ends together, to make a bandage five or sixyards long, while he and Harold prepared the splints. They then went tothe palmetto tree, half a mile distant, and selecting one of thebroadest and straightest of its flat, polished limbs, returned to thetent, and produced from it a lath about the length of the arm. Havingbandaged the limb from the finger-ends to the shoulder, they bound it tothis splint, which extended from the armpit to the extremity, and Robertpronounced the operation complete.
Sam was profuse in his praise of Robert's surgery, bestowing upon itevery conceivable term of laudation, and seeming withal to be trulygrateful. "Tankee, Mas Robert! Tankee, Mas Harold! Tankee, my dearlittle misses! Tankee, Mas Frank too! Tankee, ebbery body! I sure Ibin die on dat sand-bank, 'sept you all bin so kind to de poor nigger."
"No more of that, Sam," said Robert, "you were hurt in trying to helpus; it is but right we should help you."
At the close of this scene, the young people prepared for bed. It waspast ten o'clock, and they were sadly in need of rest; but so stronglyhad their sympathies been excited for their black friend, that evenlittle Frank kept wide awake, waiting his turn to be useful. When,however, their work was done, and they had lain down to rest, theyneeded no lullaby to hush them into slumber. Within twenty minutes afterthe light was extinguished, and during the livelong night, nothing wasto be heard in that tent but the hard breathing of the wearied sleepers.Thanks to God for sleep! None but the weary know its blessedness.