In God's Way: A Novel

by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Karl Meek's father travelled into town on purpose to thank them, and to invite them to accompany his son up to the forest district for Christmas. Otto Meek was taller and stouter than his old father; the face was in more grand style, more truly "Bourbon;" but it was melancholy, or rather gloomy. Kallem accepted the invitation, and at once made arrangements with his colleagues to enable him to get away. But as the time drew near Dr. Kent fell ill, and Ragni was obliged, however unwillingly, to start alone with Karl; Kallem would follow them. A fur cloak for driving was bought for her, fur boots, a foot-muff; a valuable fur cap, too, a present from Karl. She looked like a Greenlander when she had it on.

Kallem went to the station with them; Ragni had been crying a little--in honour of its being the first parting since they were married. As she sat in the train and Kallem stood outside, she was going to begin again; he had to get in and scold her. As soon as her tears were checked, he got down again and looked up at Karl, who sat there happy and healthy. "I say, dear old 'black-cock,' from this time I shall always say 'thou' to you and call you Karl, for you are a good fellow!" But Karl jumped right down and threw himself on his neck.

So they departed.

Kallem read a great deal and thought it not altogether unpleasant to be at peace; latterly they had occupied his time very much. But already the third day, which was Christmas Eve, it felt lonely; he thought he would go and take them by surprise; Dr. Kent was better.

On the evening of Christmas Day he was just coming away from Kent and going up to the hospital, when he saw in the distance a small crowd at the gate. A horse and sledge were just driving away; the sledge was full of straw and bed-clothes; some sick person must have been driven in. He heard also children crying. Who had been hurt? It was Andersen, the mason--the same man who had greeted Kallem and his wife from up on the new house, the first day they came to the town. In the winter, mason Andersen went about and did pedlar business whilst his own trade was at a stand-still, and in crossing over a forest ridge he had lost his way, fallen and hurt himself, and had to lie there until, by the merest chance, he had been found. Kallem found his inconsolable wife with the deaconesses, and heard from her that her husband, who was an active man, had made extra haste as it was just before Christmas, and had wanted to take a short cut so as to reach home for Christmas; Andersen was always so "fond of his home." But his sight was bad, and he slipped on his Lapp-shoes and cut and broke his leg, and there he lay not able to move. That was how he kept Christmas. "We waited and waited," she said, "and the children too!"

Kallem went up to the patient, who was in bed in a warm room. The big man with the large brown beard floating over his shirt was altogether unrecognizable. The eyes were pressed together, the eyelids swollen, stiff. The mucous membrane of the eye was inflamed, the cornea was threatened, and as it was painful at the slightest ray of light, there was probably greater danger at hand. Swollen bluish-red patches on the face; the fingers of both hands quite white and without feeling; the backs of the hands twice their usual size and covered with large blisters full of water. The right leg was broken at the upper end of the fibula, the fracture went up into the knee-joint; the wound was as large as a crown-piece, a splinter of bone sticking out like a finger. Compared with this, all other injury to the foot was of little consequence.

Andersen could hardly speak, but now and again groaned that his foot must not be cut off. Kallem answered repeatedly as he helped him, that the next morning's daylight would decide it. The room was at once half-darkened, compresses of boron water were laid on his eyes, with urgent instructions to change constantly; his face was rubbed in with oil and wrapped in a thin sheet of wadding, the same with the hands; the wound in the leg was syringed with carbolic water, and a small bleeding vein was bound up, the wound sprinkled with iodoform and wrapped round with wadding, and put in a wire bandage. If he should awake and feel weak, he was to have ether every second hour, and if in very great pain, then an injection of morphia.

After that he fell asleep; but each time he awoke he complained of unbearable pain--less from the fracture, but more particularly down the shin-bone to the back of the foot; he was in constant fear that his foot would be amputated.

At nine o'clock the next morning, Kallem thought him better in all respects. His mind was clearer, too, now, but was still much taken up about his foot--if only it might be spared. He wished to see his good friend the minister; the wife was there, and she went off at once to beg the minister to come to him a little before church began. Meanwhile his eyes were attended to; they were less swollen, but could not bear the light; atropin was used to them and the compresses changed for a light bandage. Kallem was on the lookout when Andersen's wife came back with the minister; he went to meet them. According to his opinion, Andersen's right leg would undoubtedly have to be exarticulated, that is, the leg taken off at the knee-joint; but the patient was not to know that at present. The wife, who until now had taken the accident with strength of mind and calmness, broke down entirely, so Kallem dared not let her go into the room; the minister went in alone.

It made a deep impression on the latter to stand beside his sick friend in this darkened room, and by degrees distinguish the giant lying there without eyes, with an unrecognizable face, his hands in bags, and to hear him moaning. But soon he was bound to admire his strength and his confident faith. Andersen wished them to pray for him in church to-day; "they all know me," said he. The minister agreed to it, but on the spot he offered up a heartfelt prayer for him and for all who were dependent on him. The sick man was much cheered by this prayer; he whispered: "I have made a covenant with God about my foot," then lay quite quiet whilst the minister pronounced St. Paul's blessing over him. Within an hour from then Dr. Arentz came, and Andersen was carried into the operating-room. They told him that they intended to chloroform him so as thoroughly to examine his injuries; and as he was still suffering such intolerable pain, he agreed to it at once; "but my foot is not to be cut off."