St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1886-01-14
THE DOCTORS STORY.
BY ANNIE HOWARD scov1LLE.

BY ANNIE HOWARD SCONILLE.
The cracking log fire was talking
jOvially of the world, but there was a
soft undertOne that was chattering
cozily of home. The four-fOot logs, as
they smOldered and fell apart, built no
castles in Spain for my dreamy eyes,
but pictures of my far away Eastern
home. So dreaming, | turned to in
spect my surroundings, still to be dis
cerned by the red glow of sunset and
the CHEEKY freight. There were the
low, heavily -beamed ceiling and the
roughly finished walls of my room in
the log government house, the hewn-
plank floor covered with deerskin rugs,
then books, pictures, furs, bunk, blan-
kets, bow and arrows, rifle, snOwshOes,
violin, lacrosse sticks, medical case,
and, last but not least, my great fire.
Although not home, l decided that
there were few pleasanter bachelors
dens than my quarters at the "Ninmela
Agency"
l had hardly come to this decision
when the tinkle of dog-team bells was
heard drawing nearer and nearer, until
the short yelps of the dogs and the
cultural commands of the driver show
ed they were stopping. l threw on
another log, lit my pipe, and, as the
wind whistled across the lake and
whirled the snow against my window,
gave a sigh of pity for the poor fellow
out with a dogteam on such night.
| had scarcely settled myself again,
when Captain Peal thrust his head in
to my room with short "You're want
ed, Doctor" Reused from my happy
ease, stepped into the hall. Before
Al. al IL, H.
of the dog team, waiting for me. He
turned, and, with the pithiness of an
Indian, said:
the daughter of Kennebeck. Kenne-
beck say, if white medicine-man come,
Kennebeck do anything he say"
every WE'LL" replied cpl come"
otis no use," the Captain said ::
"You know they won't do anything
You want"
"And it's freezing," chimed in anoth-
er, as l went back to my room.
''I can't leave human being to die,
for all that though, of course, it's too
late. They never send for me until it
ic," growled, as they followed me ia
to my den.
"What if it isn't 2" Jack Waters con-
tinued. "The old medicine man won't
leave you alone a minute, and it is ten
miles to the village, with the mercury
twenty degrees below zero"
"DOn't you fret" said, putting on
my bearskin coat and my good nature
at the same time. off old Kennebeck
says that | shall be left alone, they'll
do it. He rules his own wigwam, you'll
please to remember"
"YOu'll Freeze" Jack threatened.
every we'll; then be careful you
don't get sick until I am thawed out"
| said, and went forth into the biting
air with the Indian. 1t did not take
him long to pack me into the narrow
dOg-sledge, and we started. Our
course was a full ten-mile one across
the lake, polished as glass. 1t was
bitter night, and the stars sparkled
with lustre never seen in warmer
lands. There was a metallic ring even
to the patter of the dogs feet as we
went at full speed, the Indian easily
keeping along beside the team.
L settled down in my furs, and began
to wonder about my patient, stirring
only once in awhile to brush off the
icicles that formed on my eyelashes.
At length an answering howl to the
yelps of the team-dOgs warned me that
we were nearing the camp of Kenne-
beck. We drove in between the wig
vans, and stopped at the spear shaft
of large tepee.
From within came the sound of wall
ing and the muttered lamentations of
the medicine men. The sight, on en-
tering, was anything but encouraging
to a physician. The tepee was built
of poles and skins, in a circular form,
with hole in the top for the smoke to
escape. In the center of the tent was
a great fire of snoldering logs, and in
front of this sat woman with her
head hidden on her knees, while sew
eral more, with disheveled hair, were
scattered around, and every few min
utes responded to some part of the
medicine-man's performance with a
burst of wailing. At one side lay
young girl, hardly in her teens, partly
resting on the bed of skins and partly
in the arms of fine looking man, who
held her up to help the labOred breath
ing. At her feet sat two medicine
men, or priests of the tribe, singing
and beating on deerskin drums. At
every fresh burst of noise she started
and clutched the robes as if in mortal
agony, and still it went on.
No attention was paid to my en-
trance until the Indian holding the
child looked up. Then, calling one of
the squaws to take his place, he came
forward, and saluted me kindly, offer
ing me his hand, and placing mine on
his breast, as he said: "Will the med
icine-man help the flower of Kenne-
beck % | told him that, before | did
anything, every one but himself must
leave the tent. He gave his orders
like man who was used to command,
and no one hesitated to obey rfem, al
though the medicine-man -muttered
and scOwled.
L found, as L supposed | should, that
the girl was in the last stages of con-
sumption, and suffering acutely from
fever and excitement. | told Kenne-
beck that l could not save her life, but
l could relieve her pain, if he would
let me. l gave her sedative, and we
both watched until it began to take eff
feet. Then, when l told him that |
would take care of her and he had bet
ter sleep, he built up the dying fire and
lay down beside it !; but do not think |
he once moved his eyes from the child |
all that night. When toward morning |
she reused and cried out for him, he |
came and raised her in his arm as be-
fore. She seemed easier so, and sank
once more into a kind of stupOr.
saw that the end was coming, and told
Kennebeck that she could live only a |
little while. He received my announce
ment without a change of countenance,
saying only: cit is well. Kennebeck
is an old pine; only the young pines
grow around him. The flowers at his
feet the frost has taken. Ossee is the