Chapter 21

My God! I hurt all the way from my toes to my shoulder and out to my fingers, all on my left side. I could tell that my left arm and my left leg had broken bones, but I couldn't tell about my pelvis. I was pretty sure that I had several broken ribs, too, maybe on both sides.

I managed to squawk, "Can you guys get this damned bear and horse off of me?The weight hurts like hell."

The two boys tried to pull the bear off by hand and only succeeded in hurting me more. I said, "Loop a rope around a hind foot and the other end to a saddle horn. Drag it off that way."

It took a lot of work for them and a lot of pain for me, but they finally got that damned bear dragged off the pile. Jim wanted to stop and skin the bear, but I persuaded them to take care of me, first. They cut the belly band on the saddle so that they could drag the horse off me without pulling the saddle, too. This also hurt like hell, but not a bad as it would have if the saddle had still been fastened to the horse. Then, with some jiggling, they got the saddle pulled away. Shit! I don't know what the saddle had been pressing on, but it must have helped control the pain, because I now hurt more than I did a few minutes before. In fact, I hurt so much that I fainted.

Thank God for Jack! He took advantage of my unconsciousness to set my broken arm and leg. When I woke up, I was impressed; he had done an outstanding job on both breaks. As far as he could tell from gentle probing with his fingers, my pelvis was not broken, but I was sure as hell bruised to beat all. They had me lying on my bedroll and were waiting for me to come to, to tell them what to do next. While they were waiting, Jim had gotten his way and was skinning the bear.

When I came to, Jack fed me some broth he had made up from the bear meat. He figured that it was a way for me to get even with the bear. I don't know about that, but it sure tasted good. By now, it was too late in the day to do much more, so Jack and I talked about what they were going to do with me. There was no way I could sit in a saddle, so there was a problem in getting me home. We decided that they would build a travois to carry me to a road, then Jack would stay with me while Jim rode home to get help, including a wagon for transporting me. According to my maps, the nearest road was 12 miles away, so I was going to be damned uncomfortable for 12 miles, and not much better for the rest of the way home in the wagon.

Fortunately, we had all the tools and materials for making a travois, since we had figured on using one to haul our trophies home. Jack started work on the travois while Jim finished up with the bear skin. I think that Jim was more interested in the bear skin than he was in me, but I didn't care that much because I spent as much time sleeping as I could manage. We had not thought to bring any laudanum with us, but Jack did make me some willow bark tea, which did help to deaden the pain somewhat.

Jim did get his precious bear skin scraped well enough to get by for a few days, so he rolled it up and helped with the camp chores. During supper, all he wanted to talk about was that damned bear skin. By now, I was beginning to hate the blasted thing.

I spent a miserable night in considerable pain, but I didn't know what pain was until I had to take a crap! I couldn't sit up, so I had to lie across two logs placed beside my bed so that my ass was hoisted far enough into the air to allow room for the shit to fall out. I vowed that I would not eat anything else solid until I got home!

The travois was finished that afternoon, so we were ready to leave the next morning. There was barely enough light to see when we left camp. I was tied to the travois so that I could not fall off, and this did nothing to help the pain. I was lying on blankets placed on a rope hammock-like arrangement stretched between the wooden frame members. The rope was supposed to absorbed the shock from bouncing as the mule pulled me, but it seemed that the mule sought out the bumpiest route. I guess that was unfair to the mule, since she couldn't care less one way or the other how much I hurt.

Jim acted as scout and tried to find the smoothest route and Jack stayed with me to guard me and to tend to my needs. I know it doesn't sound like much, but we made seven miles that day, and I felt every pebble along the way. Jim had found a little stream for us to camp beside, so we spent the night there and left the next morning for the road.

When we reached the road, the two boys spent the rest of the day setting up a permanent camp for Jack and me. It wasn't an elite hotel, but it sure beat bumping along on that travois. The next morning as soon as there was enough light, Jim took off for home with both horses. We thought that he could make better time if he swapped horses every couple of hours.

Time certainly dragged for me when I was not sleeping, but Jack had plenty to do. He found some more willow bark for tea, so that helped me some, and he spent some time that first day hunting for elk for food. The food we had brought with us was OK for him, but I refused to eat anything but broth—I'd be damned to Hell if I was going through the pain of trying to shit, again. Pissing was bad enough, but at least that bleeding had stopped.

We spent six days in that camp before help arrived. They came rattling into camp at a dead run; I was afraid that somebody else could be hurt the way they stormed into camp. Mary led the charge as she dashed to my side and nearly killed me with a hug and kisses until I could get her to back off. She apologized and started to cry when she finally understood how much pain she was causing me. I finally got her calmed down, but it was a struggle. Thank God, they had brought some laudanum, so I finally had a pain-free night.

The next morning, I was hoisted into the wagon bed onto several mattresses, I don't know how many. It was actually reasonably comfortable as long as the wagon was not moving, but as soon as the mule started pulling the wagon, I was bounced around some, though not a bad as on the travois. Now that the laudanum was available, I managed to get by pretty well, though I did try to keep from taking too much. I did not want to become addicted to opium!

Mary rode in the back of the wagon with me, fretting almost constantly. Some of my cuts and bruises had started to fester, so she was determined to get them cleaned and on the road to mending. I had a couple of bad cuts and scrapes on my left hip, so that was where she spent the most time. We were both afraid of gangrene setting in; if it had, I was a good as dead! Luckily for me, her constant care kept the gangrene away.

Mary insisted that the wagon move no faster than the mule would walk, so it took us ten days to get home. During that whole time, Mary treated me as she would a baby. Now I could really understand and appreciate just how much she loved me. Another vow: I would never again do something to distress her so!

We got home, finally, and I was moved into a bed in one of the guest rooms. It was way too soon for us to think of sleeping in the same bed, though both of us were unhappy over that. It turned out that the bed was too damned saggy and soft for comfort. The solution was to take the wheels off the wagon bed and put it on a couple of trestles in the room after the regular bed was moved out. Three mattresses stacked on the solid wood of the wagon bed appeared to be the best compromise. It was a silly looking set up, but it was the best that we could think of to do under the circumstances.

I slept on the three mattresses stacked on the floor that first night until the wagon bed could be set up. Mary's tender loving care had me recovered enough that I could now use the chamber pot, so I gratefully shifted back to regular food. Mary had a doctor stop by to see me a few times, but he said that she was doing such a good job that there was nothing that he could do. Between Mary and her mother, Elizabeth, I could not have had better care, and the food was superlative!