"Why, what's the matter?" we heard the Old Squire call out. But just then we distinguished the murmur of Gram's voice, and a moment later heard her coming up the stairs to speak to us.
"Boys," said she, "one of you must ride to the village after the doctor for Mrs. Sylvester."
"But, Gram, it's a terrible night," Ad expostulated.
"I know it, boys," said she. "It's a bad night, but somebody must go."
"Let Sylvester go himself, then!" cried Addison, angrily.
"Well, but you know he hasn't any horse, and has rheumatism," said the old lady.
Then began to dawn on me what I came to know full well later, that whenever certain of our poorer neighbors were taken ill, or an additional small member was about to be added to their families, they were very prone to come hurrying to our door at dead of night, beseeching some of us to ride seven miles to the village for the doctor.
Addison was really unfit to go. No doubt he felt unusually irritable.
"By the holy smoke!" he exclaimed. "I wish there wasn't a baby under the Canopy!"--and while I was trying to puzzle out and piece together all these darkling hints and inferences, the Old Squire came up stairs and after a word with Addison and Gram, told me that I would have to rig up, get on old Sol's back and take my first turn riding for Dr. Cummings.
That settled it.
Thereupon I began dressing in haste, Halstead lying at his ease and crowing over me as I did so; and I am sorry to add that I was in a mood so un-cousinly that I at length gave him a swipe with my thick jacket as I put it on to hasten down stairs.
It was still raining fiercely; but they rigged me up as best they could for the trip--buttoned me into an old buffalo coat (it was a huge fit for a boy, thirteen), tied a woollen comforter around my neck, and another one over the top of my cap, to hold that on my head and keep my ears warm. Wool socks, a pair of large boots, and some heavy mittens completed my outfit.
Gram herself went to the stable and looked to the saddle. I mounted; Gramp pulled the great door of the stable open, and I rode forth into the rain and darkness.
After a few moments outside, I could see objects, in outline. So much rain had fallen that the road was completely saturated. I got on pretty well, however, until I came to the meadow a mile from home, where the road crossed low ground and a large brook. There was a plank-bridge here twenty feet long. The brook was now very high--a good deal higher, in fact, than any of us had anticipated. It had risen several feet since nightfall.
The moment I came to the meadow I found that there was water all over it, and also in the road, extending back two hundred yards from the bridge to the foot of the hill. I could not see how it looked, and, of course, did not fully realize how high and rapid the stream had grown.
Old Sol splashed through the water till we came near the bridge. There the water was up to my feet, in the road. On pulling up, I could hear it rushing and swirling along over the bridge. I supposed the bridge was undisturbed, for there were stones laid on the planks at each end, I could see nothing save a black expanse all round me. Hesitating a moment, I summoned my courage and dug my heels into old Sol's sides. He went forward till his feet touched the first planks. There he stopped and snorted. I gave him the spur. He leaped forward and seemed to strike his feet on planks. But, as was afterwards ascertained, some of them were washed out, and all of them were afloat. At his next spring his legs went down among them. Then the full force of the current struck him, he rolled over sidewise, and horse and boy went off the lower end of the bridge, in eight feet of swift water.
It is needless to say that I was holding to the horse's mane for dear life. As we rolled over the "stringer" of the bridge, I was partly under the horse. We went down and I distinctly touched bottom with my left foot, but clutched the horse's mane with both hands and hugged the saddle with both legs. It seemed to me that we rolled over before we came to the surface. Then we went under again, but a moment later, the horse got foothold in shallower water, and floundered out on the further side of the brook.
If I had let go of him I would certainly have been drowned; for the skirts of the buffalo coat had been driven by the current over my head, and with all those water-soaked clothes on, not even a powerful swimmer could have got out. I felt as if I weighed a ton. My cap was gone, and with it, my comforters.
I wasn't very much frightened, I hadn't had time to be, though I remember thinking when we rolled off the end of the bridge, that no doctor would get to the Sylvesters' that night.
The horse waded off the meadow to a set of bars, and we got back into the road; and on coming to the foot of the hill I dismounted and partly wrung some of my clothes, though it still rained heavily. If I had not been on the further side of the stream, I'm sure I would have gone home, for I felt awfully cold and homesick.
The road was badly gullied, and I had still another brook to cross; but the stream there was not so rapid, and after reconnoitering the bridge as well as I could in the dark, I ventured upon it, and found that I could pass.
I do not think that I was more than an hour and a half reaching the village. It was so dark that I had difficulty in finding the doctor's house, though I knew the place. A moment later I dismounted, and knocked at his door. After a while a window was raised, and Dr. Cummings asked what was wanted. I told him, and I can safely assert that he did not seem overjoyed.
"How are the roads?" he asked, after some hesitation.
"Pretty bad."
"Hum! And the bridges?"
I replied that I thought one of them had been washed away.
"Washed away? How did you get over then?"
"My horse swam."
"Well, I'll tell you," said the doctor. "I'm about used up, and have just come in from a hard ride. You call Dr. Green. He's a young man, just settled here. I don't want to be hoggish with him. Call Dr. Green."
Dr. Green was a young homoeopathist who had come to the village the year before. It was said that Dr. Cummings did not like him, also that Dr. Green reciprocated the sentiment.
"Shall I tell Dr. Green that you sent me for him?" I asked, as I got on my horse.
Dr. Cummings did not reply.
I then went to Dr. Green's door, and did my errand there. "Have you been for Dr. Cummings?" was his first question.
"Yes," said I, "and he sent me to you."
"He's a shirk," said the young doctor, "but I'll go."
He came out directly, saddled his own horse and set off with me, asking no questions about the road. It still rained, and the wind was in our faces. I led the way. The doctor followed. He kept up pretty well. He had on a suit of yellow oil-skin, and I could see that some ways back.
When we got to the hill near the meadow, I pulled up and told him about the bridge. "You can try it," said I, "if you want to, but I am going to wait till it gets light before I try it again."
"You are a pretty fellow," said he. "Why didn't you tell me of that before?"
"I was afraid you might not come," said I, "and it was my business to get a doctor."
"Go ahead, then," said he, grittily. "Let's try it."
"No, thank you," said I. "Once in that brook is enough for me, in one night."
"Well, then," said he, "do you know any other bridge or ford?"
I knew of a bridge two miles above. The road was like porridge, but we reached it, tried it carefully, and at length got across without swimming. The remainder of the way was comparatively uneventful; and we reached the Sylvesters' just as day began to dawn. Four old ladies were there, including Gram. They greeted the doctor with great glee. He was late--but all was well.
Nevertheless, that was a good trip for young Dr. Green. The folks thereabouts said that he must be a staunch young fellow to turn out on such a night. I always felt that they might have added a word for me, too.
The doctor told me a while ago that that ride was worth a thousand dollars to him.
"Well, then, doctor, suppose we divide that thousand," I said.
"Why?" said he. "What for?"
"Well, I went after you that night, and piloted you up there," said I.
"That's true," said he, "but you must collect your fee of the patients, as I do."
"Little there's left for me when you are done with them," said I.
I found my cap and comforters about a fortnight after that, in the top of some choke-cherry bushes below the bridge.