Adventure, June 1911 — page 102: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

288 Charlie is in great pain, and is slightly de- lirious at times. I am afraid that his age and severe wounds are going to give him a hard rub, so I am much distressed, for old Charlie is a fine man. This morning To-weé said that if I would land on the Sonora coast, hé would get good medicine. He was gone inland about an hour, returning with a squat, fleshy shrub which we pounded up and applied to the wounds. We also made tea of it and gave it to them to drink. It seemed to refresh them very much, espe- cially Charlie. Jan. 30—I have been too busy and tired to write much diary. Ahti, while still weak and sore, is otherwise well. I tend Charlie constantly, for he is very ill. He is out of his head most of the time. At such times he talks Kanaka, of which we can not understand a word. If his wounds don’t gangrene, I think we are going to save him. The wind is from the northwest and we are making slow but steady progress for the mouth of the Colorado. A storm now would be fatal to poor Charlie. We have re- filled the cans from a swamp near the beach. We boil this water and it is drinkable. Feb. 2—No sign of gangrene yet. He has less. fever than any day this week. I believe he is going to live and I am overjoyed ‘ac- cordingly. Ahti now takes his turn at things and this lightens my load so that I can get a little sleep. To-weé is a fine boy, but there is no one like Ahtt, for he is a man— a MAN! The wind has shifted to the south- west and we are making great headway. We ought to sight Montague Island to- night or in the morning. Feb. 3—We are now, thank the Lord, safe and sound in Shipyard Slough, and have plenty of water to drink! Charlie is per- fectly clear-headed, but very weak. Poor devil, he has suffered the tortures of the damned, but he is a game old cock and takes his medicine like a stoic. He says that his leg is numb, so we rub it gently every few hours. J am sending To-weé with the skiff to try to find old Dominguez’s ranch. The sloughs are many and crooked, but if he has luck, he may stumble on the right one. I have warned him about the bore or tide-rip, so that he won’t get caught and drowned. Feb. 4—To-weé is back, but could not find the ranch. Ahtdé will look after Charlie to-morrow, while To-weé and I have an- other try for the ranch. I wonder if the Burkes made it across on foot, burdened as Adventure they were with bed-roll and rifles? One wrong step in the bottomless mud of one of these sloughs would preserve one for future ages of geologists. They could then argue even more than the present day wiseacres; they might class Frank Burke’s skull as neolithic or paleolithic, but Pete’s would come under the class of plain “bone-head.”’ Frank insisted that he knew the tide-flats and if that was true, the chances are that he made it all O. K. Feb. 5—We are just back from the ranch. Old Dominguez is a kind old sow, but he is the est liar this side of Hades. Most Greasers are natural born liars, but old Dominguez is a liar by heredity, education, practise, inclination, general principles and mendicitis! He props his fat belly up in the shade and starts early in the morning. He knows where there are tons of “buried treasure.” Hehas the cinch on “Jost mines”’ that are pure gold—each vein being a mile wide and an inch long! Well, anyway, I bought a bottle of brandy from him, some milk and some sagu. This ought to strengthen old Charlie wonderfully. . A Cocopah Indian at the ranch told me that Frank Burke was dead, and that —Pete was now Town Marshall of Yuma. He said also that it was rumored in Yuma that Charlie and i had been drowned by the bore. Charlie and I are not drowned by a —— sight. He may wind up shy a leg, but he has a fine stake of gold to keep him and, if he needs it, he can have my share as well as his own. Dominguez says that a young New York doctor is up in the bottoms, hunt- ingfordeer. Ihave sent the Cocopah witha letter, begging him to come down and at- tend to Charlie. Feb. 7—The doctor was not a doctor. He was an unfortunate Tenderfoot “lunger,”’ out here trying to prolong his consumpted life a few more years. Old Dominguez had seen his cartload of medicine bottles and had drawn his usual correct conclusion. If he should ever happen to tell the truth it would be instantly fatal to him. We have sent over to the nearest Cocopah village, to hire four bucks to row and tow us up to Yuma. It will be going through the mosquito-belt the next few days. Com- ing down-stream with the current and every- body well and hearty is very different from bucking the river with a sick man. Feb. 8—The four Cocopah bucks are here. We are to feed them and pay them twenty- CONMIG <SiG@ JOO