Arcata High School - Advance Yearbook (Arcata, CA)

Page 22 text:

A TRIP TO A DOCTOR The old Doctor and I came out of the post-office and strolled down the main street of the little mining town. The Doctor was an old friend of our family, having known my parents when they lived in Clarksville, and after they had moved to new fields to seek their fortune, the distance did not lessen that friend- ship. Business called me to Clarksville, and I of course called upon the Doctor, who insisted that I be his guest as long as I remained in town. When we were a few steps from the Doctor's office, we passed a man whom he greeted with a hearty Howdy do, Bill.' The fellow held my attention because of his physical appearance- It was plain that he had at one time suffered a terrible accident, as he walked with the peculiar stiff-legged movement of a man with a wooden leg, and his left arm ended just below the wrist. He was built like an athlete and would have been a fine specimen of physical manhood, were it not for his misfortune. We entered the office, and I picked up a newspaper, while the Doctor tele- phoned concerning one of his patients. I see by the paper, said I, when he again joined me, that a young man in New Hampshire has been granted a Carnegie medal for saving a girl from drown- ing. It's a fine thing that some of our millionaires put their money to such good use. Again I thought of the man we had met on the street, why, I do not know, ex- cept for the fact that he had strangely attracted me. Yes,l' said the Doctor. I read that too. But if every act of bravery were rewarded in this country, it would take all of Carnegie's money and more ton, to keep up the fund. By today nearly every newspaper reading person in the United States has read of that act, and probably two out of every ten have com- mented upon it- And yet in this very town there is one of the bravest men who ever lived. and I don't believe there is a person outside of this state who has ever even heard of himf' He lighted a fresh cigar and settled down more comfortably in the large Morris chair. I put aside my paper. for, from long acquaintance with the Doctor. I knew that a story was coming. He told the story in simple language. and I will try to tell it in his words, as I remember them. Two miles from here the Muddy River winds its way through the valley. It is hardly an appropriate name for the peaceful, sun kissed stream, that now flows quietly through the fields, or dashes down the rocky mountain gorges, but if you could see it in the winter or during the spring freshets, you would hardly blame the man who christened it. The Muddy River is now spanned by a strong steel bridge, but at the time of this occurrence it could only be crossed in boats, or by fording. . On the other side of the river the country becomes mountainous and rocky. with here and there stretches of scraggly pine. Fourteen miles from the river is Dry Creek, now a prosperous mining camp. A wide wagon road now leads from Clarksville to Dry Creek, but ten years ago there was only a narrow trail, up which it was a hard struggle for a horse to climb.

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Three men, Joe Ball. William johnson and John Gaston, had claims on Dry Creek, and all three lived together, finding it more convenient and companionable to live in the same cabin. Their nearest neighbors were the people of Clarksville, sixteen miles away. One cold winter day Ball was cutting wood for their fire, when his ax slipped, and the sharp blade cut deeply into his leg, severing the arteries and smashing the bone. He called for help and his companions came running. They quickly car- ried him into the cabin and put him on a bed- It was easily apparent that if a doctor were not summoned quickly Ball would soon bleed to death. '-Tack, you stay here with Joe, and I'll go' down and get a Doc,' said Johnson. 'How're you going to get across the Muddyf objected Jack. 'She must be more'n bank full now and there ain't nary a boat on this side. I wouldn't give ten cents for a fel1er's chances in swimming her.' 'We've got to chance it,' persisted Johnson- 'Old Baldy can swim it-he's done it before. Anyway, we can't leave Joe here like this.' johnson was putting on his warmest clothes as he talked, getting ready for the long, cold ride to Clarksville. Gaston poured him some hot coffee and then went out to saddle their one horse. When he returned, johnson was waiting for him. fIf I ain'tfback with the doctor by noon tomorrow. you'll know I'm not com- ing,' he said as he rode off. The first few miles he covered quickly, but soon it began to snow, and as the dusk deepened into night the wind and storm increased in fury. VVhen he reached the river he gazed on it in wonder and horror. He had expected to see it high, but how was he to cross the raging flood which snarled and hissed before him? When he thought of his comrade up in that lonely cabin he did not hesitate, but spurred his horse into the water. The icy current bore horse and rider far down the river, but at last, after what must have been a terrible struggle, they reached the opposite shore. Luckily they did too, for had they gone another fifty feet down the river they would never have been able to have climbed the steep and treacherous bank. lint here another mishap befell him. VVhen he reached the bank he lay down, exhausted, and his horse left him and ran off toward the town. When johnson had recovered himself he struggled onward on foot. The snow was still falling and his wet clothes soon froze to him- He began to get drowsy, and he said after- ward that it was only by keeping the picture of Joe, suffering, perhaps dying, con- stantly before him. that kept him from lying down and going to sleep. At last he could stand it no louger,and with a contented sigh he sank to the snow and was soon unconscious. VVhen the riderless horse came into the Clarksville livery stable, a search was quickly organized. and less than an hour later Johnson was found about a mile from the town. He was nearly dead- but when he had thawed out, and was able to talk. his first words were to tell of his friend's plight. At daybreak I was off for Dry Creek with two companions. The storm had let up. and we crossed the river easily in a boat, and after a toilsome journey arrived at the cabin. joe Ball was nearly gone. but he pulled through and today is as well as he ever was. Johnson, however, was not so fortunate, for he was