_A "Painter"_
There was still much to do on the house and the boys set themselves at
work on it very early the next morning. First of all there was a chimney
to be built. Jack directed two of the boys to saw out a space nine feet
wide for the fireplace, first securing the logs in position by nailing
pieces of timber to them, just as he had done with the Doctor's windows.
He decided that the fireplace when finished should be five feet wide.
"You see," he said, "we've a hard house to keep warm and we must have a
lot of fire. Now the width of a fire means as much as its other
dimensions, and so I'm going to have a wide fire. We'll burn full length
cordwood in our fireplace, and we'll make room for plenty of it in front
of a big back log. In earlier times an open wood fire place was the only
heating apparatus people had, and they managed very well with it.
Nowadays people insist that an open fire will not heat a room. I'm
disposed to think that that's because they make their fireplaces too
small. We'll make ours big, like those of our grandfathers."
Then Jack turned to the Doctor and asked:
"Is it freezing?"
"No," answered the Doctor. "The thermometer stands at forty-six, and
before noon this little skim of snow will be gone I think. But why do
you ask?"
"Because we want to chink and daub our house as soon as possible, and of
course we can't do it in freezing weather."
"Why not?" asked the Doctor. "We can warm our hands from time to time
and make out to stand it."
"Yes," answered Jack, "but that isn't the point. If we daub in freezing
weather the mud will all drop out. You see it freezes and then when a
thaw comes the whole thing goes to pieces. So I'm glad it isn't freezing
to-day. Now come you fellows, and let me show you how to chink and
daub."
He dug away the soil at several spots, exposing the clay that lay
beneath. Then pouring great pailfuls of water into the holes thus made,
he set the boys at work mixing the clay into a soft plastic mud. By the
time that this was well started the two who were to saw out a fireplace
opening had finished that task, and Jack set all at work fitting
chinkings into the cracks between the logs, and so daubing them with the
soft mud as to close up all cracks, big and little, against the ingress
of the winter's air.
"Now, Doctor," he said, when the boys began showing something like skill
in this work, "if you'll come with me, we'll start a chimney."
They went into the woods and set to work splitting some chestnut logs
into thick slabs, six or seven feet long. With these they made a sort of
crib work outside the house at the point where the fireplace was to be.
This, as Jack explained, was to hold the fire place.
Inside of this crib, or box--about two feet inside--Jack drove some
sharpened sticks into the ground and behind them he placed some
clapboards set on edge. Then he called for mud and with it filled in the
space between the clapboards and the crib walls behind. Then he set
another tier of clapboards and added more mud, and so on till he had the
whole inside of the slab crib lined with two feet of mud held in place
by clapboards set on edge and braced with stakes.
"Now, then," said Jack, "when we build a fire the clapboards will slowly
burn away, but very slowly because no air can get behind them, and in
the meantime the mud will bake into one great solid brick. Now for the
top of the chimney."
Then he went outside and built upon this fireplace a smoke stack,
consisting of cribwork of sticks split out for the purpose, embedding
each stick in a thick daubing of mud as he went.
By the time he finished it was night--for so eager had the boys been
with their work that they had not stopped on this third day for dinner,
but had contented themselves with cold bites left over from breakfast.
In the meantime also the other boys had finished chinking and daubing
the house.
"Now we're ready to move in," said Jim Chenowith as they sat down round
the fire to eat their supper.
"Indeed we're not," answered little Tom. "We haven't built our bed yet
or a table to eat on, or any chairs to sit on, and besides that the
fireplace must have at least twenty-four hours in which to dry before we
can build a fire in it. You're always in a hurry Jim. If we get
comfortably moved into our winter quarters by this time day after
to-morrow we'll do very well indeed."
"Yes," interposed Jack, "but we'll move in to-morrow night nevertheless.
By that time we'll have the bed constructed and a table and some sort of
chairs made, and we shall be much more comfortable in the house than out
here under the cliff where it is very uncomfortably wet and muddy since
the snow began to melt. Of course we can't have a fire in the house for
two or three days yet, but we can have one outside, in front of the
door."
"So the programme for to-morrow is to make beds, chairs and a table?"
asked the Doctor.
"That's the programme for the other boys, Doctor. You and I will in the
meantime set up the chute through which we are to send the results of
our chopping into the valley below. Fortunately there is a straight
slide down the mountain, free from trees and landing at the right place.
It was used some years ago to send big stones down. All we've got to do
is to build a short chute at this end of it. Gravity will do the rest."
"But, I say Jack," broke in little Tom, "If we begin to chute sticks
down there and anybody should be in the way--"
"But there'll be nobody in the way," answered Jack. "You don't imagine
that I left so serious a matter as that to chance, do you? I've arranged
the whole thing. Our slide ends in a spreading sort of flat down there
in the valley that embraces an acre or so of level ground. Our timbers
will go down there with the speed of cannon balls, but when they get
there they'll slow up as the descent grows gentler, and stop on the
level ground. Now I've arranged with the railroad people that we're not
to send anything down the chute till to-morrow afternoon at the
earliest, and that after that we are to send nothing down till three
o'clock each day. That's to give them a chance to collect the stuff,
haul it away and measure it."
"By the way," asked the Doctor, "how are we going to keep tab on their
counts and measurements? Must we simply trust the contractor's men for
all that?"
"Not by any means," answered Jack, who carried a very good business head
on his shoulders. "Not by any means. We'll keep our own count up here.
On every hundredth tie that we send down I am to mark 100, 200, 300 and
so forth, according to the count, using a piece of red keel for the
purpose. On every big bridge timber that we send down I am to mark the
length and smallest diameter, keeping an account of it all up here. As
for cordwood, every time we have sent down ten cords I am to send down a
slab indicating the amount. All these markings of mine will be verified
below, of course, and when we go down in the spring the contractor or,
rather, his agent with whom I made our bargain--for I didn't meet the
contractor himself--will settle with us. He knows us only as a single
source of supply, and will credit everything we send down to the whole
party of us. So as between ourselves we must keep our own accounts so
as to make a proper and equitable division of the proceeds of our work
when the springtime comes. To that function I appoint Ed Parmly. He is
to keep our books. He has had experience in that sort of work in his
father's store, and we'll look to him to keep a record of every fellow's
contribution to the supply of timber sent down."
"But Jack," broke in little Tom, "how are we to estimate the amount of
cordwood we send down the chute?"
"We won't estimate it at all. We'll cord it up and measure it before we
send it down, just as we'll count our ties and measure up our bridge
timbers. What's that?"
All the boys had started to their feet at the sound of something that
seemed to be a human being in excruciating agony.
After a long pause there was a repetition of the strange, pitiful cry.
"May I use your rifle, Doctor?" asked little Tom. "That's a fellow that
I don't care to tackle with a shot gun, and I've located him pretty
well."
"What is it, anyhow?" asked Ed Parmly and Jim Chenowith, in a breath.
"It's a panther," answered Tom as he took the gun from the Doctor's
hands, slipped off his boots and crept stealthily and noiselessly into
the woods.
"Stay here, all of you," he commanded, "and don't make the least noise."
Tom was a chronic huntsman. From his tenth year onward, as has been
already told, he had spent a large part of his vacation alone in the
woods in pursuit of game. Sometimes he had been absent from home for a
week at a time, having taken no supplies with him, but depending
exclusively upon his gun for the means of subsistence. Then he had come
home heavily burdened with wild turkeys, squirrels, opossums, raccoons
and game of every other species that the mountains afforded. In every
matter pertaining to the chase his present comrades were willingly ready
to pay deference to little Tom's superior skill, knowledge and sagacity.
So they all obeyed him when he bade them remain where they were, and
keep perfectly still.
There was a long time of waiting. Then came another of the demoniacal
screams, but still no response from little Tom. Several minutes later
came three rapidly succeeding reports from the repeating rifle, and
after half a minute more little Tom called out--
"Come here all of you, and bring your guns."
The boys all hurried to the place from which the voice came, the Doctor
carrying a brand from the camp fire to give light.
It was well that he had thought of that, for light was just then badly
needed. Little Tom was lying at the root of a tree, covered with blood
and manifestly fainting. Only a few feet away lay the panther, shot
three times through the body but still sufficiently alive to be striking
out madly with his fearfully clawed fore feet in a desperate endeavor to
destroy his enemy.
[Illustration: TOM WAS LYING AT THE FOOT OF THE TREE.]
By the light of the Doctor's torch three charges of buckshot were
quickly driven into the beast's vitals, and at last he lay still.
Then, all attention was given to Little Tom. Throwing his torch upon the
ground the Doctor called out:
"Build a fire right there, boys, as quickly as you can. I must have
light by which to examine the boy's wounds."
Willing hands produced the desired light within a very few moments, and
stripping off part of Tom's clothing, the Doctor discovered that the
beast had dealt him two vicious blows with his horridly armed claws, one
tearing his left arm severely and the other lacerating his chest. After
a hurried examination, the Doctor said:
"He can stand removing to the camp if you'll carry him gently, boys, and
I can treat him better there than here." Then he gave a few hurried
directions as to the best way of carrying the wounded boy, and the
others very lovingly obeyed his instructions in removing their comrade
to the main camp fire.
"Now," said the Doctor, "remove all his clothing as quickly and as
gently as you can."
This was done and the Doctor carefully examined the wounds.
"It's all right, boys," he said, presently. "Tom is very painfully hurt,
but the 'painter' didn't know enough of anatomy to deliver his blows in
vital parts. Tom will get well, but he's fainting now. Lower his head
and throw a gourdful of cold water into his face and another over his
chest."
It was no sooner said than done, and no sooner was it done than Tom
revived. After blinking his eyes for a moment, he asked:
"Did you fellows finish the painter?"
"Indeed we did," answered Jack; "but it's you old fellow, that we're
concerned about now."
"That's all right," said Tom, "but that fellow's hide is worth a good
many dollars, and better than that, we're rid of him. If I hadn't shot
him he would have dropped from a tree upon some one or other of us, and
in that case he wouldn't have left anything for the Doctor to do."
Meanwhile the Doctor was carefully cleansing the boy's wounds and
drenching them in water in which disinfectant tablets from his pocket
case had been dissolved. Here and there it was necessary to draw the
edges of deep gashes together by a stitch or two with a surgical needle.
"But the main thing," the Doctor expounded, "is to cleanse and disinfect
the wounds. Nature itself," he added, "will repair any wound that does
not involve a vital part, if it is cleansed and kept clean. The danger
always is that the wound will become infected, that inflammation and
blood poisoning will set in and kill the patient. Fortunately, we
surgeons know now how to prevent that, and I'll answer for it that
nothing of the kind shall happen to little Tom."
"But what is it that causes the inflammation and blood poisoning?" asked
Harry.
"Microbes," answered the Doctor; "little things that you can't see
without a microscope--and some that you can't see with one. The greatest
advance that was ever made in medical and surgical science was the
discovery of the fact that nearly all diseases and all hurtful and
dangerous inflammation is due to the presence of microbes in a wound.
The moment the Doctors found that out they set to work to kill the
microbes. They studied them under the most powerful microscopes. They
tried all sorts of experiments with them till they learned how to kill
them. Thus they discovered two greatly good things--antiseptic surgery
first and after that aseptic surgery. Antiseptic surgery aims to kill
all the evil germs that are already in a wound. Aseptic surgery aims to
keep all evil germs out of the wounds that the surgeon must make."
"Would you mind giving us some illustrations, Doctor?" asked Jack.
"Certainly not, if you are interested," said the Doctor.
"I have practiced both antiseptic and aseptic surgery on little Tom
to-night, so his case will serve to illustrate both. I have washed all
his wounds with a solution of bi-chloride of mercury, commonly called
corrosive sublimate, for the purpose of killing all the germs that may
have got into them from that beast's claws or in any other way. That was
antiseptic surgery. Then, wherever I found it necessary to take a stitch
or two, I have used ligatures drawn directly out of a disinfecting
solution, and perhaps you observed that I thoroughly disinfected my
needles and other implements by passing them through a blaze before
using them. So, also, as to my hands. Before touching Tom's wounds I
thoroughly scoured my hands in a solution of corrosive sublimate, so
that they might not carry any possible infection to the scratches. All
that is aseptic surgery. In the hospitals, where all conditions can be
controlled they do this aseptic business completely. First of all, they
have an operating table made of glass, which absorbs nothing and could
be easily and perfectly cleansed after each operation by mere washing
with water. But not content with that they scour the table with a
disinfecting solution immediately before every operation. Then the
surgeon, his assistant, and all the attendants are clad in garments that
have been rendered 'sterile' as they call it, by roasting. So of all the
towels and sheets and everything else employed about the patient's
person. Everything is sterilized. The bandages and the thread or the
catgut to be used are drawn from thoroughly disinfected supplies. The
surgeon's instruments of every kind are laid in a panfull of a
disinfecting fluid, and there are so many of each that if any one of
them is accidentally dropped its use is abandoned and another is used in
its stead. But come! Little Tom, you are comfortable now. Why not tell
us how it all happened?"
"Well, you see," answered little Tom, "when I heard that cry and located
it, I knew what it meant. I knew it was a painter or a catamount, or a
puma, or a panther, or a mountain lion--or whatever else you choose to
call it, for it bears all those names and some others. And I knew what
it was after. It wanted that last leg of venison of ours, but it wasn't
over particular. If it couldn't get the venison it was quite ready to
take any one of us boys instead.
"It's a smart beast, the panther. It sneaks on its prey and springs upon
any animal, human or other, that it may fancy, for lunch. And yet it is
a fool in some ways. It suffers itself to grow enthusiastic now and
then, though that is very rare, and when that happens it gives that
excruciating yell that we heard. I never heard that except once, before
to-night.
"Well, when I heard it, I knew what it meant. I knew that unless
somebody killed that panther, that panther would kill somebody in this
company. At his second yell I located him pretty accurately, though, of
course, you can't depend too confidently upon that, as the beast often
runs a dozen yards in a few seconds. So I took your gun, Doctor, and
went out to find the gentleman. For a time, I couldn't get a sight of
him, but after awhile he yelled again, and I 'spotted' him. I crept up
in the very dim light till I got a good view of him, crouching on a
limb, and evidently planning to spring upon me and accept me in lieu of
the venison. Then I fired three bullets through him with that splendid
repeating rifle of yours, Doctor, and then I had an illustration of the
old adage about 'the ruling passion' being 'strong in death.' For,
instead of dropping to the ground, as I had expected him to do, the
beast sprang twenty or thirty feet forward and attacked me with his
hideously long and sharp claws. He tore me to ribbons at his first
onset, but then the three bullets I had given him from your gun seemed
suddenly to dishearten him. So I managed to creep out of his way and
call to you fellows to come to my rescue. The rest of the story you
fellows know better than I do. For the next thing I recollect was when
you doused me with the water so that I should become conscious of the
prick of the Doctor's needles, as he sewed me up. By the way, Doctor, am
I seriously hurt?"
"Seriously, yes," answered the Doctor. "But not dangerously, I think.
You're going to have a good long rest in one of our beds over there in
the new house, but surgery is now so exact a science that I think I can
promise you an entirely certain recovery within a few days, or a few
weeks at furthest, if you'll be a good boy and obey my instructions."
"I say, boys," called out Tom, "how fortunate we've been in bringing a
Doctor along, even if we did have to resolve half his age away! Doctor,
I never met any other boy of only sixteen years old who knew half as
much as you do! Now, I'm tired. I'm going to sleep. Call me when it
comes my turn for guard duty."
And with that the boy sank to sleep. But there was no call upon him that
night or for many nights yet to come, for sentinel service.