A TELEGRAM FROM MEXICO
SHESA hurried along by the path she thought she had taken to reach the
cabin, but after walking ten minutes, found herself going in the wrong
direction.
“How dreadful!” she exclaimed, “when I am in such a hurry!”
She looked about her. “It is nearing sunset,” she whispered, looking at
the sky. “Oh, I wish I knew the way!”
Just at that moment a noise in the underbrush startled her. Although
very brave, she was dreadfully afraid of snakes, even harmless ones,
but she laughed when she saw a tiny prairie dog scamper out of the
bushes, stand on his hind feet and look about him with blinking eyes.
“How foolish I am!” she thought, but shuddered again as she heard
someone stepping up behind her.
“I beg pardon,” said a gentlemanly voice—and turning, you can imagine
how relieved Shesa was to see a United States soldier standing with his
hat in his hand.
“Oh,” she cried happily, “I’m so thankful to see you. Will you help me
find my way to the emergency hospital?” Then she stopped and laughed.
“I must apologize for speaking this way,” she said, “but you will
understand my excitement when I explain all that has happened to me
this afternoon.”
The soldier quickly led the way as she talked.
They soon arrived at the emergency hospital, and after Shesa’s
explanation, the doctors took her in a field ambulance up to the cabin,
the soldier showing the way.
Within two hours, Private Brave lay on a clean white cot, with clean
dressings on his arm and comforting broth in his stomach.
[Illustration: “WILL YOU HELP ME FIND MY WAY TO THE EMERGENCY
HOSPITAL?”]
“I feel a hundred per cent better already,” he said to Shesa as she
kissed him good-night. “In the morning I’ll be well.”
But in the morning the doctors shook their heads. “I’m afraid that arm
will have to be amputated,” said the chief surgeon.
“Oh, Doctor!” exclaimed Shesa, “can’t it be saved?”
“If it is saved,” said the doctor gruffly, not liking to show how
sorry he was for the pretty nurse, “it will be saved for a dead man.
A neglected infected wound, even small, may mean gangrene. This is a
large, badly neglected infected wound!”
Shesa bit her lips and held back the tears, saying, “Of course, if it’s
to save his life, Doctor—” Then she went out to telegraph to her family.
The telegram read:
_Ima found, wounded. Will bring home soon as possible._
_Shesa._
[Illustration: “OH, DOCTOR! CAN’T IT BE SAVED?”]
“Oh, how I hope all comes out right,” she thought.
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