Good old Patch seemed to realise that some great disaster had occurred. The expression on his face was almost human. He sat perfectly still, intently watching us.
To get Meade in, and lying on his far from comfortable bed, was the first thing to do—of that I was quite sure. It was no easy task. I did, however, manage by attaching a rope to the bearskin to haul him along by degrees, and at last got him near the fire. Still on the bearskin, I arranged him with rugs and blankets, as we had plenty.
Next thing was to examine his hurts. I cut off his boots and clothing. I found one leg was much cut and bruised, but he could move it—it was the other that was seriously damaged. I found that it was broken just above the knee!
Naturally my first thought was that we must have a doctor. But how could it be managed? Could I leave him for a forty-mile tramp to the boat? Could I launch it alone? Could I navigate it alone to Dawson? When I did get there, could I get a doctor to come out with me?
It would take at the very least ten days to go and come, and where would my poor friend be then? He would die indeed without me. He would freeze to death, even if I left food and water handy, for it froze every night, and the earth itself was frozen always, summer and winter, you must remember, and if the fire died out he could not rekindle it.
No—it was impossible. I could not leave him.
We talked this over, at least I talked, and he agreed with me—that we must sink or swim together, that we could not be parted. He was awfully depressed.
I plied him with hot tea and whisky—that is all I could think of then, and he became calmer after a little. But soon he became uneasy again. "Bertie, dear friend," said he, with a mournful sigh, "I see clearly nothing can be done. I must die here—that is plain."
"Not if I can help it," I declared, and I begged him to tell me what he thought I could do for him; that as it was evident I could not leave him, I must do something—if only to alleviate his pain.
He asked what I knew of surgery, if I had ever seen a leg set, if I thought that I could do it. I was grieved at heart to have to tell him that I was absolutely ignorant about all such matters.