A to Z Classics - Bram Stoker - The Complete Novels

“I am all right, mother. It was the bears, but they are both dead. Look to Dick! he is badly wounded, and I had to carry him home!” and even as she spoke she reeled and would have fallen, only that the strong arms of her old nurse held her up.

By this time Le Maistre was kneeling by Dick. Presently he turned round and said:

“He is not dead! I can feel his heart beat! Run for some Indians to carry him to the house!”

And without a word, off started Miss Gimp — who up to now had stood wringing her hands — glad of an opportunity to be of some service. Mrs. Le Maistre murmured to Mrs. Elstree:

“Some Indians to carry him, and the dear child carried him all by her poor self up the mountain!”

The Indians were on the spot in a very few minutes, but by this time Dick had recovered his senses, under the stimulant of a little whiskey, and was telling in his own way of the accident and his rescue. At first Esse had tried to put in a word of protest when his praise seemed excessive, but she was by far too exhausted to argue, and Dick’s words seemed to have a far-away, pleasing music of their own as he went on:

“I followed the b’ar an’ missed him, but see his mate eatin’ honey. As I seen her, an’ fired, I see Little Missy sittin’ beside the log, an’ that put out my aim, an’ the old lady came jumpin’ for me before I could draw a bead on her. She hit out, and crumpled up my shootin’-iron quicker nor I could see; so I had just time to whip out my bowie, and drive at her before she came at me, an’ busted my leg into matches, an’ tumbled over me with my knife in her heart, pinning me down everlastingly. Then while Little Missy was tryin’ to raise me up the old-man b’ar came whirlin’ along; but Little Missy went boldly up to him, and threw her nose-rag in his eye, and while he was clawin’ it off, she up with her derringer, and gave it him in the face. He’d just got near enough to rip her tucks out, and scratch her a bit before he went under. Then Little Missy she tackled me like a little hero, as she is, an’ dragged the b’ar off my sore leg, an’ took an’ splinted me up and carried me here like I was a rabbit. Blest, but she’s the all-firedest, bravest, kindest, staunchest comrade from the Rockies to the sea! She wouldn’t leave me, no, sir! but took me up here all by her little self; an’ I’d have died any way, only for her, half-a-dozen different ways — God bless her!” then he said in a whisper to Le Maistre: “Take me home, quick, old man! I’m racked with pain, and nigh dead, and its torture keepin’ it up afore the women folks. I’ll be better when I get to my cabin!”

Mrs. Elstree, who was just bending over, heard the last word, and said:

“You’ll go to no cabin, but to my house, and be nursed. I’d like to know what Esse would have done if you hadn’t killed the bear; and, whether or no, I wouldn’t let you go anywhere else. So that ends it!”

“All right, all right; thank ye much!” said Dick resignedly. “Ye’ll forgive me marm, for my manners, but I ain’t pannin’ out much in that way just now, owin’ to contrairey circumstances!”

And so the Indians took him up, and carried him to the house, previous to their going off to the glade, by his emphatic instructions, to get the skins and claws of the two grizzlies, and to bring back the cubs.

For the next few days Esse was obliged to keep her bed, so that she did not know, and was barely in a condition to know, exactly how Dick progressed. The terrible strain, both mental and physical, which she had undergone, brought on a sort of fever; but good nursing, and a little antipyrine, finally ousted the fever, and she was allowed to get up. She had of course heard in the interim of Dick’s condition, and was anxious to be allowed to assist in the nursing. When she was seated in the balcony, and felt the freshness of the breeze sweeping down from the white summit of Shasta, she had a long talk with her mother on all the events that had passed. First, she learned that Dick was going on as well as could be expected, for his wound was a terrible one, and the hardship of his home-bringing, which she had effected with such nobility of purpose, had much aggravated the original evil. When he had been taken into the house, Le Maistre, who had some little knowledge of surgical dressing, had unbound the bandaging in order to reset it in a more finished manner, but, finding it in good order, waited more skilled assistance. An Indian runner had been sent with a letter to the Doctor at Ashland, and twenty-four hours later he had appeared on the plateau, and had brought to Dick’s aid the latest academic skill. When he saw Esse’s improvised splint he shook his head, but on his unwinding the bandage, and seeing how well his patient was getting on, he grew enthusiastic on the subject of the mechanical ability displayed in the improvisation. With genuine amazement he learned that it had been effected, under unheard-of conditions, by a young lady who had never seen a broken limb in her life. His wonderment increased when he was told that the slight, pale girl whose pulse he had just felt in the veranda had herself carried the huge bulk of the wounded man up the side of the mountain.

Dick’s splendid physique stood him in good stead, and the ruthless stretching of his leg when he was pulled from under the bear, combined with the almost miraculous accident of the rude splints being placed in exact position, had already begun the cure. The Doctor happily prognosticated that within a month, if all went well, Dick would be on the high road to recovery, if not able to move about a little.

“We can never tell,” he said “what will happen in the way of recovery with a man like that. His simple life, with his great energy and his plain living, make recovery seem extraordinary to town-bred men. But we must not judge of his health and recovery by the standard of the towns, but rather by the animals, who simply lie quiet and lick their wounds, and are running about again when a man is beginning to realise that he is helpless!”

Miss Gimp had been up to this the head-nurse, with Mrs. Elstree as a relief; but Esse now joined the nursing staff. Her mother was not altogether satisfied about it, but did not like to make any objection just at present. She was beginning to have an uneasy feeling that perhaps Esse had seen too much of Dick at her impressionable age, though, as yet, she did not imagine that there could be anything serious arising out of their unchecked companionship. But out of her uneasiness came one certain thing — the complete realization that Esse was no longer the child that she had hitherto considered her. She was a woman now, for good or ill; and whatever she thought or did was from the standpoint of a woman, and would have to be adhered to with a woman’s constancy, or abandoned with a woman’s resolve. Esse had by this time told her mother all the incidents at the killing of the bears, and she could not but see that the circumstance of her own life being saved by Dick — for, with woman’s imagination, she realised more than any other episode the agonised waiting till the bear should discover her before Dick came — was an important step in the growth of a romantic affection. She realised as a still stronger one the fact, as Dick repeated to all over and over again, with increasing freedom of speech and added emphasis of delivery, about her saving his life. Mrs. Elstree therefore thought that to forbid the girl the sick room would be to beget or increase a desire to see the man, which might develop later into something more serious.

So Esse sat with Dick daily, reading or talking to him whilst he was awake, which was always charming to her; and watching him whilst he slept, which was a much more dangerous pleasure, for then her memory and imagination worked together to weave romances which she durst not think when his eyes were on her, and which were not nearly so real when she was alone. The closed eyelids could not take note of blush or pallor, and had no terror for the maiden spirit in its hour of stress.