"BE PREPARED!"
"WHEE!"
It was Bumpus who gave utterance to this exclamation, though possibly he
hardly realized, himself, that he was saying anything, as he stood
there, and gaped at the sight of the wounded mountaineer being helped
along into their camp.
But if Bumpus, and some of the others, were spell-bound by what they
saw, gazing as though fascinated at the blood dripping from the man's
fingers, Thad Brewster was not included in this group.
He had long ago picked up a smattering of knowledge connected with a
surgeon's duties; and ever since taking up the new life of a Boy Scout,
those things which concerned the saving of human life had somehow
appealed to young Thad with redoubled force.
More than once now had he been called upon to show what he knew along
these lines. A boy had been severely cut by an ax he was carelessly
wielding in camp; and might have bled to death only for the energetic
actions of Thad, who knew just how to secure a stout bandanna
handkerchief around above the wound, with the knot pressing on the
artery; and making a tourniquet by passing a stick through the folds of
the rude bandage, twist until the bleeding was temporarily stopped, and
the boy could be taken to a doctor.
Another time it had been a case of near drowning, when Thad, who had
learned his lesson well, succeeded in exercising the lad's arms, after
laying him on his chest and pressing his knee upon him, until he had
started the lungs to working. In that case every one of the other scouts
declared that only for these prompt applications of scout knowledge the
unfortunate one would surely have died.
And so, when he saw that the man who was being thus supported into their
camp had been shot in the arm, and was in danger of bleeding to death,
the surgeon instinct in Thad Brewster came immediately to the surface.
He never once thought about the fact that the man was very probably one
of those very lawless moonshiners, whose presence all around had
virtually marooned himself and chums in the heart of the mountains. He
was a man, and in trouble; and perhaps Thad could be of some help!
And so the generous-hearted boy sprang forward, eager to lend a hand.
"Bring him right up to the fire, men!" he exclaimed. "What happened to
him? Was he shot? We heard a gun go off a little while ago, and wondered
what it meant."
The two men urged their injured companion forward. He seemed to have
little mind of his own in the matter; though Thad could see that he had
his jaws set, and was apparently determined to betray no sign of
weakness in this terrible hour. The customary grit of the North Carolina
mountaineer was there, without fail. It showed in the clenched hand, the
grim look on his weather-beaten face, as well as in those tightly closed
teeth.
"Yep, 'twar an accident," almost fiercely replied one of the men, whom
Thad now recognized as the fellow whom they had met driving the vehicle
that Bob declared had kegs of the illicit mountain dew hidden under the
straw--Nate Busby. "We was walkin' thro' ther woods w'en a twig cort the
trigger o' my gun, and she hit Cliff in the arm, makin' a bad hurt.
Reckons as how he never kin hold out till we-uns git him acrost ter ther
doc's cabin."
"You could, if we managed to stop that bleeding," said Thad, eagerly.
"Bring him over here, and let me take a look, men. I've done a little
something that way. And perhaps you don't know it; but all Boy Scouts
are taught how to shut off the flow of blood. There, set him down, and
help me get his coat off. There's no time to lose."
"Nope, thar's sure no time tuh lose," muttered the wretched Nate, who
was undoubtedly feeling very keenly the fact that it had been _his_ gun
that had been discharged through accident, causing all this trouble; and
that if the man died, his relatives might even want to hold the unlucky
owner of that weapon to account for his carelessness, inexcusable in one
who had been mountain born and bred.
They sat the wounded man down as gently as though he had been a babe;
after which Nate assisted Thad to take the ragged coat off.
Some of the scouts crowded close, though with white faces; for the sight
of blood is always enough to send a cold chill to the hearts of those
unaccustomed to the spectacle. But Allan was an exception; and strangely
enough, there was Smithy, whom no one would ever have expected to show
the least bit of nerve, evidently ready to lend the amateur surgeon a
helping hand, if he called for recruits. It often takes a sudden
emergency call like this to show what is under the veneered surface of a
boy. Smithy had always been deemed rather effeminate; yet here he could
stand a sight that sent the cold shivers chasing up and down the spines
of such fellows as Giraffe, Davy Jones, and Step Hen, and almost
completely upset poor Bumpus.
"Get me one of those stout bandages I brought along, Allan, please,"
said Thad, when he could see what the terrible nature of the wound was;
"you know where they are. And Smithy, will you hand me that stick
yonder?"
In a brief space of time the several articles were at the service of the
boy, who first of all made a good-sized knot in the handkerchief, after
wrapping it around the man's arm _above_ the wound; and then, inserting
the stout stick, he began twisting the same vigorously.
It must have pained tremendously, but not a whimper, not a semblance of
a groan did they hear from the bearded lips of the wounded mountaineer.
Indeed, he seemed to arouse himself sufficiently to watch the confident
operations of the young surgeon with a rising curiosity; and Thad
thought he could detect a slight smile on his dark face.
As for Nate and the other rough man, they stared as though unable to
believe their eyes, to thus see a mere boy so wonderfully able to do
what was necessary in a case of life and death. Every little movement
did they follow with wrapt attention. No doubt, a great relief had
already commenced to rise up in the heart of Nate, as hope again took
hold upon him. If the other survived the shock, and loss of blood, it
would not be so bad; and trouble might not come home to him on account
of his liability for the accident.
Thad soon knew that he had done the right thing. The knot had been
properly placed, so that the pressure upon the artery above the wound
prevented any more blood being pumped that way by the excited action of
the man's heart.
"There," he remarked, in a satisfied way, "I guess we've got the
bleeding held up, and you can get him to a doctor, if, as you say, there
is one across the valley. I'm going to bind this stick so it can't come
loose while you're helping him along. But if it should, perhaps you've
seen how I did the job, and you could fix it up again?"
"Sure," replied Nate; "and yuh dun it ther neatest I ever knowed,
younker. Reckon as how Cliff Dorie an' me has reason tuh be glad yuh
happened tuh be so clost. If so be he lives thru hit, as he will now,
dead sartin, he's gwine tuh owe his life tuh yer."
Thad happened to catch a glimpse of Bob's face just then, as the other
turned toward him; for up to now he had been keeping rather aloof, not
wishing to be noticed by either of the mountain men. He was surprised to
see the expression of suddenly renewed hope that seemed to have taken up
its abiding place there. Apparently the Southern boy had made a pleasing
discovery, which of course Thad could only guess at, until he had found
a chance to speak to his comrade. But he understood readily enough that
it must concern the coming of the three men, and the fact of the scouts
being enabled to place them under obligations.
With the flow of blood stopped, the wounded man seemed to gather new
energy. He no doubt felt that he had at least a fair chance to pull
through. He started to get on his feet, seeing which Thad immediately
offered his hand to help him; and the mountaineer's horny palm was
confidently thrust into his much smaller one; as though, after what
miracle he had already seen the lad perform, the man were willing to
trust him in anything.
Yes. Fortune had again been kind to the scouts; only in this instance it
had not been a case of searching for chances to do good; the opportunity
had come knocking at their very door, so that all that was necessary was
for them to _be prepared_, just as the scout's motto signifies, and
then do the best they knew how.
Again did the two men take hold of their stricken companion. Before they
quit the vicinity of the fire, however, the man named Nate Busby turned
and shook hands all around. Evidently he was grateful for the assistance
rendered. To his mind this first aid to the injured meant a whole lot;
and while he did not say a single word, his action was enough to show
what he thought.
Then the group departed, heading toward the other side of the valley,
where, in one of the humble cabins, some sort of mountain doctor was to
be found, rude in his way, no doubt, but perfectly capable of attending
to a gunshot wound; for these doubtless constituted the bulk of calls
that were made upon his services.
When they had gone the scouts began to discuss the queer happening, and
compare notes as to which one of them had shown the least alarm.
Bob Quail came directly over to where Allan and Thad were standing, just
as the latter had expected he would do. That expression of eager
anticipation still shone upon his dark face, and his eyes fairly glowed
with satisfaction.
"Well, will wonders ever stop happening?" he said, as he reached the
others. "Did you hear what Nate called the wounded man, Thad, Allan?"
"Yes, it was Cliff Dorie. And I guess you've heard it before, judging
from the way you act?" observed the scoutmaster.
"Talk about luck, why, we're just swimming neck deep in it, suh!" the
other continued. "I thought he looked a little like somebody I'd known
befoah; and when I heard that name, I knew it; Why, Cliff Dorie is the
brother of Old Phin's wife!"
"Fine!" exclaimed Allan, with a broad smile.
"I should say, yes," Bob went on, eagerly; "seems as though we were just
bound to put the whole Dady family in our debt. There was Old Phin
himself, who felt so interested in all you told him about the Boy Scout
movement; then there was Polly, who might have had her face badly
scratched, not to mention other wounds, if we hadn't just happened to
get there in time to chase that savage mother bobcat off. And now you've
gone and saved the life of Polly's own uncle. Oh! p'raps, suh, we won't
have to get into any fuss at all about that prisoner of the Still;
p'raps Old Phin might feel that we'd done his family enough good to
change his mind about keepin' that revenue man up there any longer,
aworkin' his life out; and let him go away with us, if he promised never
to tell anything he'd learned. And let me say to you both, I'm feelin'
somethin' right here, inside, that seems to tell me it's going to be all
right, all right!" and Bob repeated those last two words softly,
caressingly, as though they meant everything in the wide world to him.