Wanderings of French Ed

by J. Adelard René

"Play 'El Diavolo,'" he asked her trying to hide his embarrassment, and she did.

Early the next morning Edward was on his way to his work. He had a distance of about twelve miles to ride, and the morning was so perfect that life seemed a blessing on such a day. It was one of those mornings that fill the soul with exhilaration, and makes you think of the greatness of the Creator of this wonderful world. The little wild flowers along the road were covered with dewdrops, which glistened under the first sun rays like millions of diamonds. The air was full of that sweet fragrance found nowhere but on the vast Western prairies, and Edward was thinking how good life was. He was nearing the place where thousands of steers were grazing, and was humming the air of a French song, when all at once he heard a rumbling noise. It was distant and much like the noise one hears when approaching the sea. Edward placed his hand to his ear and stopped the mare, in order to make out what was the meaning of that noise. Raising himself on his stirrups, he looked in the direction where the rumbling sound came from and saw a dark spot which kept growing as the noise increased, until a moment later the ground was actually trembling, while a big cloud of dust indicated the coming herd of crazed steers. It was a stampede—and while Edward had never seen one before, he knew its dangers. His little mare was now rearing and snorting with great evidence of fright, and Edward hardly knew what to do. He knew that to try and stop the maddened steers was an utter impossibility, but felt that it was his duty to try and do something to prevent the terrible disaster which is always sure to follow a stampede, when thousands of valuable animals fall of exhaustion and are trampled to death by the others, or, as sometimes happens, they dash themselves to death from some high precipice, where the first ones to reach are pushed over by the oncoming, until thousands have been sent to destruction. Edward knew this and he also knew that the stampede was now heading toward a dangerous marsh where thousands would perish, unless something was done to prevent them from going in the direction they were then taking. It is a fact that the best way to stop a stampede is to get the animals circling round, and this is often done by the cowboys, who ride with the leaders of the stampede, and lash them on the head until they gradually keep turning; but it is one of the most dangerous actions that a cowboy can be called to do. A stumble of the horse and both rider and horse are sure to be trampled upon by the frenzied herd, and of course, that means destruction.

Edward could soon distinguish some of the other cowboys, riding furiously by the side of the running herd, but apparently unable to reach the leaders, and in a moment he made up his mind to do it himself, and immediately starting his mare at a rather slow canter, he let the stampede come nearer and nearer until he could hear their hard breathing; then, taking his long lasso in his right band, he half turned himself on his saddle, and while at a very rapid gait, he kept striking the furious beasts in the face, until they began to alter their course, and turn to the right, which was exactly what he wanted. By this time the other cowboys had joined him, and the great moving mass was now beginning to circle around; but just then Edward's mare missed her footing and fell forward, turning a complete somersault and breaking Edward's right arm above the elbow. It was almost miraculous that he never let go of the reins, which he held with his left hand, but was again on the saddle as soon as his mare was on her feet, his right arm banging limp by his side, and causing the most excruciating pain as it moved with every motion of the mare. His face was also badly bruised, blood flowed freely from his mouth and nose, and when some of the cowboys came to his rescue he was riding on his saddle like a drunken man. They made a sling with a piece of lasso, and after bathing his face in the water of a near-by spring, they decided that two of them would go back to the village with Edward, while the rest would remain and watch the still excited herd. They started very slowly, knowing that the motion caused by cantering or galloping would make Edward's arm pain him much more; but Edward, after inquiring if his mare was badly hurt, and being told that except for some blood running from her nose, she seemed to be all right, they were surprised to hear him say: "Boys, let's go a little faster or we will never reach home."

The ends of the fractured bone could be heard grinding against each other at the galloping motion; but had it not been for the cold sweat that covered his pale face, no one would have known that Edward was suffering intense pain, except for the gritting of his teeth now and then.

At last they reached Mr. Goodnow's, and when Edward was helped into the house, he was so exhausted that he could not speak. The two other cowboys told Mr. Goodnow of the occurrence and of the heroic action by which Edward had saved many thousands of dollars.

"To hell with the steers!" said the rancher. "I would rather have lost the whole damned lot of critters than see this boy crippled and suffering like this."

When the doctor came, he said that Edward had sustained a compound fracture of the humerus and that it would take many weeks, in fact, two or three months before he would be able to use the arm. He also suggested giving chloroform, to reduce the fracture and set the arm, but Edward smiled faintly and said, "I guess I can stand a little more, doctor; go on with the job." After the arm was set, the doctor mentioned that it might be better if his patient was taken to the hospital, where he could see him every day.

"No, sir—we'll take care of him here, Doc; and don't spare the
expense. Come every day, and I'll stand the bill myself," said
Goodnow, and Edward noticed an expression of satisfaction upon
Grace's face.

She washed his face carefully, and tenderly, and from this time she was his nurse, and a more faithful nurse never lived.

When the doctor came the next day, he found that Ed ward had not slept all night, and that while his arm was not very painful, his head was a source of great suffering. After taking his temperature, the doctor anxiously examined his head and ordered ice-packs to be continually kept on it, and taking Mr. Goodnow aside, the doctor informed him that Edward was suffering from cerebral fever, and that he would likely become delirious very soon.