The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1875-12-10
the guarded word, and all was still


again.
"Fdther"
This time a rabbit bounded through
the thick underground and stopped be-
fore her, with its fore paws in the air,
while it eyed her curiously.
"How wish had gun, and could
shootI I'd have breakfast for mother"
thought the child.
''Madge! Come to me, Madge w
The voice was barely audible; but to
the child's quick ear it was plain
enough.
(which way, father ?"
"Here, Madge! Quick! for Gods
sake! !r
The child bounded over the logs and
briers, in the direction indicated by the
voice; and there, upon the sodden
ground, securely pinioned by a large
branch of fallen tree, with his leg
broken at the ankle, lay her father,
writhing in pain, and utterly unable to
help himself. By his side lay brace of
grouse, and his gun, which the rain had
rendered unfit for service, recIined be-
side them.
'I thought you'd come" said the
father. "Did you bring an axe?"
eyes, father; but you can't bear the
jar of chopping."
''I must bear it,"
| E;p1inO n broIyoy, trao l;y,b = ,,oor h.,
which she used as lever, and a large
stone adjacent, which fortunately was
in position to serve as a fulcrum, the
child managed to so far lease" the
weight of the branch that had rested all
night upon her fathers leg, that she
could chop enough to liberate him from
his peril without much increasing his
agony.
"How shall I ever get to camp ?"
groaned the sufferer.
"Rather say, how shall we set that
broken bone p" answered Madge. "We
can easily make camp here, and bring
you everything you need, but don't
know where to find Doctor"
The unfortunate man was suffering
for water, which Madge brought in a
large maple leaf, and then, assuring
him that she would soon return, she
hastened back to camp with the sad
and yet welcome news of her discovery.
While the family were pondering, in
acute perplexity, the terrible problem
of setting the broken bone, an Indian
approached the camp, to whom they
| impaired the story of the disaster, rely
ing upon his mercy for that aid which
they knew not how to do without.
! This Indian was not one of those no.
ble-looking, handsome braves that ex-
list in books only. In truth, he was a
filthy specimen of a deteriorated race, a
stranger alike to good cheer and soap
and towel baths. His vernacular was
of that character designated in far
western parlance by the simple appella-
ton of 'jargon," though our men of
letters have seen fit to classify it in
later years by the expressive title of
"Chinook."
'My husband has been disabled by a
fallen tree" said Mrs. Morrison.
"Nika wake cumtux," responded the
Indian.
"His egis broken" explained Madge,
helping her expression by appropriate
sign language.
"Ugh! Nika cumtux. Nika heap
make 'em well. Nika good Injun."
Mrs. Morrison suddenly remembered
that she had often heard that Indians
were skilled in peculiar way in some
of the curative arts.
"Come with us, won't you?" she
said, eagerly. 81 want you to cure my
! husband"
'Mika pOtlatch dolla'."
The poor woman's dollars were few in
number; but the fee was promised, and
very soon the Indian, with the profess
sional air of one who understands his
calling, was bending over the PROSTATE
man, feeling remorselessly the position
of the shattered bone, and grunting
contemptuously at the patients agoniz-
ing outcries.
But the untutored son of the forest
evidently understood his business, and
in few hours the crippled unfortunate
was borne, with his assistance, upon q
rude litter, to his chosen camping
ground, where the delirium of fever
mercifully deprived him for time OF
all knowledge of the hardships that lay
in store for his family during the COM
ing winter.
ITO be continued