For five days has he laid hanging between life and death. His physician has watched the telegraph, and now, with the words of the Iowa veteran, he is hurrying to the bedside of his patient.
“Your son will recover!” the doctor exclaims before reaching him.
The white-haired man rises on his elbow, saying, “Do I dream? Is it true, doctor? Will my son live?”
About this hour, away up on Wild Horse Creek, Umatilla County, Oregon, a young man is writing a letter that seems to come from an overcharged heart submerged in grief. The letter runs as follows:—
Meacham Ranch, Wild Horse Creek, April 17th, 1873.
My dear Nephew:—I have just heard of the death of your father.... Eleven months since we kneeled with him beside your Uncle Harvey’s coffin and pledged our lives to care for his widow and orphan children.... You and I, George, are
all that are left to care for two widows and two families of orphans. ... The stroke is heavy to be borne.... I will try to be a father to them. We must be men.
Your uncle,
JOHN MEACHAM.
Again we stand on the bluff, at this hour, overlooking the Lava Beds. In a little tent among the hundred others the Iowa veteran is telling his brother-in-law that his wife will be in camp by seven. A courier arrives saying that the Modocs are hanging about the trail leading down the mountain. The officers are aware of the near approach of Mrs. Meacham. They decide that she cannot come to the camp with safety. A detachment is ordered to escort Commissioner Dyer up the mountain to meet her and take her to Linkville.
While he is working his way under escort, the Modocs are seen creeping towards the road. At the top of the mountains Dyer meets the ambulance. He assures the woman that she cannot reach the camp; that her husband is well cared for, and that she must go back to a place of safety.