Mr. Tom Faulkner, his engineer, surveyed, then let contracts for temporary snow road, log buildings at the falls, and a telegraph line which would secure our business from being known at Polly's post-office.
Mr. Dale reopened the Sky-line mines, pending my arrangement with the owners.
Mr. Surly Brown placed a cable and built a scow in readiness to renew his ferry business.
Mr. Tearful George placed loads of forage a day's march apart across the forest, then drifted live stock into Jesse's ranch.
Father Jared sought out young gentlemen to be trained at Jesse's "School of Colonial Instruction."
Mr. William O'Flynn became bartender, despatch rider, stable man, general adviser, and commander-in-chief at the Hundred.
A bewildered Chinaman, with a yellow smile, cooked, scrubbed, chattered pidgin-English, and burned incense to Joss in the kitchen.
And I, Kate, was busy nursing and keeping house, with never a moment to spare for the specters which thronged our forest. After the snow road diverted traffic, my one visitor was Pete Mathson, who on Saturdays climbed the long hill for his rations. When my patient was well enough, he would talk with "Bolt" Taylor about old times in the gold mines, or on the high technic of pack-train harness, above the comprehension of a woman.
Until the nurse came I was with my patient always, and slept in the same close room. On her arrival—how I envied that pretty uniform—Nurse Panton proceeded to set us all to rights. She was a colorless creature, supported by routine as by a corset, and Billy informed me that she needed to be shocked thoroughly. He told her that the patient, being a sailor, wanted the nursing done shipshape and Bristol fashion. Nurse and I were to have each four hours on and four off, with two dog or half watches, which would daily reverse the order, so giving us the middle watch by turns. Nurse was indignant at the very idea, and finding me on Billy's side, protested to the captain. "Capital!" said he, delighted at any chance of shaking up the long monotony of illness. "You'll strike the bells as we do at sea," he said, "two for each hour."
Of course the first of the nursing ten commandments is, "Pretend to agree with the patient;" but then the naval officer, if he missed his bells, would awake with horrible deep-sea oaths, and "Stop her grog," so that she got no tea except by obedience.