THE BOY SCOUTS
WITH
THE RED CROSS
BY
SCOUT MASTER ROBERT SHALER
AUTHOR OF “BOY SCOUTS OF THE SIGNAL CORPS,” “BOY SCOUTS OF
PIONEER CAMP,” “BOY SCOUTS OF THE GEOLOGICAL SURVEY,” “BOY
SCOUTS OF THE LIFE SAVING CREW,” “BOY SCOUTS ON PICKET
DUTY,” “BOY SCOUTS OF THE FLYING SQUADRON,” “BOY
SCOUTS AND THE PRIZE PENNANT,” “BOY SCOUTS OF
THE NAVAL RESERVE,” “BOY SCOUTS IN THE SADDLE,”
“BOY SCOUTS FOR CITY IMPROVEMENT,” “BOY
SCOUTS IN THE GREAT FLOOD,” “BOY SCOUTS
OF THE FIELD HOSPITAL,” “BOY SCOUTS
AS COUNTY FAIR GUIDES,” “BOY
SCOUTS AS FOREST FIRE FIGHTERS,”
ETC.
NEW YORK
HURST & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1915,
BY
HURST & COMPANY
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. When the Ambulance Came 5
II. An Emergency Hospital 18
III. Master and Men 27
IV. The Work of the Scouts 38
V. Hugh Scents a Mystery 52
VI. Around the Scouts’ Campfire 61
VII. A Call to Further Duty 73
VIII. Nurse Jones Makes an Appeal 85
IX. Surprising the Sheriff 96
X. On the Trail 107
XI. The Value of Being Prepared 119
XII. At the End of the Trail 131
XIII. Well Worth While 143
The Boy Scouts with the Red Cross.
CHAPTER I.
WHEN THE AMBULANCE CAME.
“It’s going to be all right now, fellows!”
“Well, for one I’m glad to be relieved from these onerous duties, as
sure as my name’s Billy Worth!”
“Listen to Billy talk, just as if the whole burden had been resting on
_his_ shoulders, when everybody knows Arthur Cameron and our efficient
scout master, Hugh Hardin, have done about all the tough work!”
“That’s right, Alec, but it’s made me tired watching them hurrying from
one patient to another. Then again, mebbe it’s partly because I’m not
used to being in a field hospital anyway, and my nerves are getting
shaky under the terrific strain.”
“Have it as you will, boys, but just the same every one of us is happy
to see that Red Cross ambulance coming down the road from Farmingdale.”
“Let’s give them three cheers, Hugh!”
Six well-battered campaign hats, such as Boy Scouts almost invariably
delight in wearing, were waved energetically in the air, and as many
pairs of lusty young lungs roared out a salvo of welcome.
It was a most remarkable scene which that half-dozen wearers of the
honored khaki looked upon at the time those cheers rang out. For the
special benefit of those readers who may not have enjoyed reading the
preceding books of this series, a little explanation may not come in
amiss while the boys are awaiting the arrival of the oncoming
ambulance.[1]
These boys belonged in the New England town of Oakvale, and most of them
were members of the Wolf Patrol of the local troop. They had started out
in the early summer for a camping trip, having also members of other
patrols with them—the Hawk, the Otter, the Fox and the Owl—numbering
some fourteen in all.
Pitching their tents on the bank of the roaring Hurricane, in a section
of country where they had never been before, they proceeded to enjoy
themselves after the fashion of scouts—every one according to his own
pleasure—although at the same time a certain amount of authority was
exercised by the acting scout master.
A variety of adventures fell to their lot which have been faithfully
recorded in the pages of the preceding volume; they should prove
interesting reading to all lads with red blood in their veins.
It developed that they had camped within a couple of miles of a large
plant or cement works where a couple of hundred men, mostly foreigners,
had been employed.
On account of dull times the owner of the works had thought fit to
reduce the wages of his employees, and in consequence there had been a
strike.
As so frequently happens in such cases where feeling runs high, the
owner of the plant, upon finding that his old men would not return to
work, hired guards to protect the buildings, while he imported a new lot
of strike-breakers whose presence excited the foreigners and promised
trouble.
The boys in camp had learned something about this, and Hugh Hardin was
seen to listen many times when certain sounds came on the wind blowing
from the quarter where he knew the plant was located.
Finally, one morning shortly after breakfast they had heard the sound of
numerous gunshots, and much loud shouting. This told them what they had
been fearing must have happened, and that a terrible battle between the
strikers and the guards had come to pass.
Scouts above all things are always looking about for opportunities to
make themselves useful to their fellow beings; and it now occurred to
Hugh Hardin that they would never forgive themselves if they did not
proceed to render “first aid to the injured” to any of the wretched
foreigners who may have been shot during the riot that had taken place.
Accordingly, after consulting with his chums, the scout master selected
five of whom he wished to accompany him on his errand of mercy. Of
course, in picking these members of Oakvale troop, Hugh considered their
availability along the line of knowledge of surgery in its first
principles as well as their ability to handle a stretcher in case such
should be needed.
So they had hastened across country and arrived on the scene to find
that their worst fears were realized. Several badly wounded men had
already been helped back to the settlement where these foreigners lived
in shacks and even tents. Others, to an unknown number, were said to be
lying on the ground where they had fallen at the time they tried to rush
the guards, who shot them down by a murderous fire.
Besides Hugh Hardin and his stout, good-natured chum, Billy Worth, there
were present Arthur Cameron, said to be the best hand at surgery in the
troop, Alec Sands, Bud Morgan and Ralph Kenyon.
They had managed with the aid of a rude stretcher made from a mattress
tick obtained from the padrone of the foreign settlement to carry the
last of the badly wounded strikers to the temporary field hospital which
had been started under a tree. There were a couple of women patients as
well, for in that rush toward the gates of the stockade surrounding the
cement works, the women had urged on their husbands, just as the Amazons
outvied all others during the Revolution in Paris long ago.
Here the six boys had labored, and tried to do all they could to relieve
the suffering of those wretched victims of the riot, some of whom were
injured so badly that Hugh and Arthur feared for their lives.
Wisely foreseeing that they had a greater task cut out for them than it
would appear lay within the province of Boy Scouts, with their limited
knowledge of surgery, Hugh from the beginning had determined to seek
assistance.
It happened that just then the Red Cross movement in the State was
receiving an impetus, and those deeply interested in the advance of the
cause of mercy were holding some sort of a convention in the city of
Farmingdale, not a great many miles away from the pitiful little field
hospital which Hugh and his mates had organized under such discouraging
conditions.
Hugh understood that at this convention there was to be shown one of the
very newest motor ambulances, together with its regular traveling doctor
and two nurses of the Red Cross.
It was feared that those in charge of the works might delay sending off
an account of the battle, and hence help would be slow in coming.
Accordingly, Hugh Hardin, with his accustomed zeal, had conceived the
idea of telegraphing direct to the Red Cross at Farmingdale. He had
explained in brief language what a terrible condition of affairs
prevailed, and begged that they dispatch their new motor ambulance
forthwith, in order to save the lives of several whose cases were beyond
the limited capabilities of the scouts.
As the boys, though never slackening their arduous duties, had been
watching eagerly for much more than an hour after this urgent message
had been dispatched, it can easily be understood why they should hail
the appearance of that oncoming ambulance with hearty cheers.
“There, you can see the surgeon all in white sitting beside the
chauffeur!” exclaimed Alec Sands, as they gathered in a cluster and
anxiously awaited the coming of those who would relieve them from the
weight of care pressing so heavily on their young shoulders.
“Yes, and I c’n also see two nurses, also in snowy garments, peeping out
back of the surgeon,” added Billy Worth.
The foreigners were wildly excited. Of course most of them had never
before set eyes on a Red Cross ambulance, and they hardly knew whether
they should allow the strangers to take their wounded away, or to resist
them. They rushed this way and that, all the while talking at a furious
rate, until as Ralph Kenyon, who had always been a lover of the woods,
declared it reminded him of a crow caucus, where a thousand birds cawed
and scolded and clamored.
The ambulance drew up close to where the six scouts stood, as though the
one at the wheel recognized them as being in authority; or it may be the
surgeon saw the significant signs of a field hospital in the figures
scattered on dirty blankets under the shade of that wide-spreading oak.
“Which one of you sent that message, boys?” asked the surgeon, a young
energetic man, who looked as though he knew his business; and as the
other five scouts immediately turned their eyes toward Hugh, he
understood, so he went on to say: “From another source news came in that
many were seriously injured, and a few killed outright. Is that a fact?”
“So far as we have been able to find out, sir, there were no actual
fatalities,” Hugh told him, “though several are badly hurt, having been
shot in the back!”
“What’s that you say—shot in the back?” demanded the surgeon quickly.
“That is a significant admission which may have considerable bearing on
the finding of a coroner’s jury in case death results. But show me what
you have been doing in this emergency, my boys.”
“We had hardly any facilities worth mentioning, you understand, sir,”
remarked Arthur Cameron, “and a number of the patients had to be carried
from the place where they were hurt to this amateur field hospital. We
made a stretcher, you see, for that purpose.”
“And well done at that. I’ll be bound it answered the purpose as well as
the up-to-date one connected with the ambulance!” cried the astonished
Red Cross surgeon.
He went from one patient to another and examined the work of the scouts.
Loud was his praise for the cleverness shown by Arthur Cameron. While
doubtless in many things it was far from the finished product of a
graduated surgeon, at the same time there was much about it to cause the
surgeon to commend the boys.
“I want to tell you, my boy,” he said directly to the blushing Arthur,
when Hugh informed him that most of the work had been done by that
modest member of the scout troop, “you’ll make the mistake of your life
if you fail to continue along this road, for you have it in you to
accomplish wonders. Take my advice, and think very seriously before you
commit the blunder of putting a square man in a round hole.”
Of course, that was very pleasant talk for Arthur, and his chums seemed
to take quite as much delight in hearing him praised as though they
themselves came within the scope of the surgeon’s flattery.
They watched how deftly he worked when examining the wounds that had
been already treated, turning most of the ordinary cases over to the two
nurses. Hugh learned, as he chatted with the other, that the young
surgeon’s name was Doctor Richter, and the attendants of the ambulance
were Nurse Arnold and Nurse Jones.
The former was a middle-aged woman who had doubtless had much experience
in her line; but Nurse Jones, Hugh found, was rather young and with rosy
cheeks, as well as bright eyes. As a rule the scout master paid very
little attention to the looks of girls, but somehow, in this case, he
found himself more or less interested in the two women whose sleeves
bore the magic insignia of the Red Cross.
When presently they came to one of the poor fellows who had received so
serious a wound, the boys waited with more or less concern while the
surgeon made his examination. Hugh could see that he looked grave, and
this fact convinced him of the seriousness of the case. It also told the
scout master that he had acted wisely in wiring to the Red Cross to send
help, so as to relieve the inexperienced scouts from further
responsibility.
“He is in a bad way,” remarked Dr. Richter, as he bent back toward Hugh.
“It would be little short of downright murder to carry him back over
those rough roads, even in our splendid ambulance. I’m afraid we’ll have
to make an emergency hospital out of it here if, as you say, there are
several more cases like this. Those who can stand the trip may be taken
away, with one of the nurses in charge; the other I will keep by me for
the present.”
So they went from one to another, and Dr. Richter was pleased to
continue saying how delighted he felt over the fact that boys could make
themselves so useful in case of need like that which had arisen.
“It does you great credit in the first place, let me tell you, Mr. Scout
Master,” he said, “that you and your chums decided to hurry over here on
the run to lend a helping hand. I never fully understood what the Boy
Scout movement stood for up to now; but after seeing what you have done,
from this time on it is going to have my unqualified approval. Wherever
I can, I shall tell just how I was converted to standing up for such a
noble purpose in life.”
“There’s another cloud of dust up the road yonder, Hugh,” said Alec at
this interesting juncture. “We’re all wondering whether a second
ambulance corps could have been sent out from some other town to render
aid. If it happens that way they might as well turn around and go back
home; for first come first served, you know, and we’ve turned everything
over to the Red Cross.”
“I can see a couple of big touring cars,” ventured Billy Worth, “and
say, they seem to be full of men at that. If they’re all doctors and
nurses we’ll be fairly swamped with workers.”
“That man in the leading car seems to have some sort of a silver badge
pinned on his breast,” remarked Alec. “I tell you what it means, boys;
p’raps he’s the big officer of the county, the sheriff; and that’s a
posse he’s sworn in to accompany him here to keep the peace!”
“Alec, you’ve hit it square on the head that time,” added Ralph Kenyon,
excitedly. “That’s just what those men are—a sheriff’s posse!”