He prescribed 30 grains of quinine to be taken in 10 grain doses at intervals of two hours, thus taking 30 grains in three hours, an amount which no physician at the North would dare to prescribe. It unquestionably saved my life. I was wholly unconscious for the next 24 hours. When the effect wore off my fever was banished but I was as helpless as an infant. His after treatment did not suit me and at the tenth visit I dismissed him, paying for his services $100 with thanks for his good intentions. After a few days I became satisfied that I could not get any strength in Panama, but must get across the Isthmus into a cooler climate. I made a bargain with four natives to put me into a hammock, sling it on a bamboo pole and take me across to Cruces[115] on the Chagres River for twenty dollars.
We started in the morning, but when a mile or two on our way and in a dense forest, the natives laid me down and refused to go further without more pay. Here again I was cared for and protected by my dear friend Norton, except for whose presence and prompt action I should doubtless have been left to the wild beasts, or death from exposure, if not actually murdered. Norton is a large, muscular man, with the courage of a lion, though as gentle and kind in disposition as a lamb when not aroused. He was the owner of a double barrelled shot gun, which he had taken to California and thought so much of that he brought it back. His hair was very long with full uncut beard, which hung down in front to his waist, altogether giving him a leonine appearance not to be trifled with. When they laid me down he drew the cover off his gun, cocked it, deliberately stepped in front of the rascals, with the most savage look imaginable—I can see it now—and with his gun at his shoulder ready to fire, ordered them to pick me up. The cowered fellows sullenly complied and we had no further trouble.
We arrived at Cruces after dark on the second day. I was refused admission to a hotel kept by a Yankee on account of my condition, the proprietor fearing I had a contagious disease, but was allowed to pass the night in an out building on a pile of dry hides. I never passed a better night of sweet sleep, and in the morning walked unaided into the hotel and relished a breakfast of sugar cured ham, soft boiled eggs and coffee, bought a bottle of sherry wine, chartered a dug out and started for Chagres, where I was put aboard a steamer bound for New York.
VIII.
JAMAICA AND THE RETURN TO UNADILLA.
1849-1850.
As soon as we got under way, and struck the north-west trade wind, the effect upon me was like magic. A glass of lemonade could have been no equivalent in relieving thirst to that cool, delicious wind. I sat on deck and took it in with more relish than I ever drank any iced beverage on a sultry day in August. Every breath I took added new life and stimulation to every nerve and muscle like electricity. My appetite became almost uncontrollable. About an hour before the opening of the dining room I would seat myself at the door, the first one to enter and last to leave the table. It was on that vessel I found my relish for the tomato; it had always been a disagreeable article to me, but one day the stewardess brought out a pan of them and put them in one of the small boats which hung at the davits. They looked so inviting that I reached over and took one. I bit into it and a more luscious fruit never passed my lips.
The voyage was a very pleasant and uneventful one. We stopped at Kingston on the Island of Jamaica for one day. I went on shore and while sitting in a hotel a native seeing me very shabbily dressed—and by the way my clothing aboard the vessel coming down the Pacific was never found; I suppose I must have thrown it overboard after taking out my gold dust[116] and placed it where the sailor found it, other passengers had contributing to cover my nakedness—approached and asked me if I did not wish to buy some clothing. That being my object in going ashore I replied in the affirmative. He offered to take me to a shop and without thinking I started, not even saying a word to Norton who was sitting near by. The man led me into several streets and finally through a narrow alley into another street where the shop was situated.
When he entered that alley the thought struck me, suddenly, that he had evil intentions. Owing to the fact that Kingston was renowned for the disorders committed by its villainous population,[117] I felt that I was in a dangerous predicament. But it would not do to show fear. My only resort was to put on a bold, unconcerned appearance, keeping my eyes open. The alley being narrow I dropped behind him and kept behind the rest of the way. I selected my suit and fortunately had loose change enough to pay the bill, but no other money in sight.
I think this delayed him in his plan. Soon after we started back he asked me if I was intending to remain ashore that night. I promptly answered that I expected to do so. He then said he would be around at bed time and see that I had a good room. He urged me not to go to bed until he came, which I promised, but before dark I went aboard the vessel, believing I had escaped harm once more.
We reached New York on Christmas morning. It was the coldest day I ever experienced. I have no recollection of the temperature of the thermometer, but having come direct from the torrid climate into the frigid the contrast was fearful. I stopped at the United States Hotel, still standing in Fulton Street. Here came my first experience in sleeping in a feather bed since leaving home in February previous. Sleep I could not, but rolled from one side to the other in misery—such is the power of habit—and finally got out on the floor with a single covering and there slept like a log the balance of the night.