A LITTLE AMATEUR SURGERY

“The first thing to be done now,” said Phil, “is to find out what damage we have suffered, and repair as much of it as we can.”

“Better begin with your head then,” said Will. “It seems to have sustained more damage than anything else in sight.”

The cut Phil had received had covered his face and shoulders with blood, and his head was aching severely. But he was not ready to think of himself yet. He must first do everything that could be done for the safety of the boat and crew and cargo. So he dismissed Will’s suggestion, saying:—

“Never mind about my head. I’ll wash the blood off when other things are done. There’s plenty of water, anyhow.”

With that he went below again to inspect. He found that the water there had risen since the pumps were stopped until now it stood about two inches above the false bottom or floor on which the cargo rested. Putting his head out through the scuttle, he called:—

“Two of you go to the pumps—one to each pump. Don’t work too hard, but keep up a steady pumping. As soon as the two get tired, let the other two take their places.”

He withdrew his head, but in a few moments after the pumps were started he thrust it out again to say:—

“Don’t pump so hard! You’ll break yourselves down, and we can’t afford that now.”

He went below again, lighted a lantern and made as thorough an examination of the boat as possible, even moving a good deal of the freight about in order to get at points where he suspected the principal leaks to be. Two of these he closed by nailing blocks of inch board over them.

Meantime he made frequent observations of the water mark he had set, and was rejoiced to find that the pumps were taking water out more rapidly than it was leaking in.

He went on deck and announced the results of his inspection.

“The boat is leaking, of course, but not one-half so badly as there was reason to fear. The bilge is full, and the water stands about an inch deep or a little less on the false bottom. But it stood two inches deep there an hour ago, so I expect that in another hour or so we shall get it down to the bilge, leaving the floor clear. It is important to do that quickly so that the wet part of our cargo, particularly the lower tier of hay bales, may have a chance to dry out. If it stays long in water, of course it will be badly damaged.”

“Well, now,” said Irv, “I’m going to take care of something else that’s badly damaged. Get a pair of scissors, Ed, and some rags, and help me repair Phil’s head.”

Then, taking Phil by the arm, he continued:—

“Come to the bow, Phil, where we can get at the water easily. It will require a young lake to clean you up properly. Off with your shirt, young man!”

Irv treated the matter lightly, but he did not think of it in that way by any means. In common with the other boys, he was deeply concerned over the young captain’s wound. The bleeding had long since ceased, but the boy’s hair was matted, his face covered, and the upper part of his clothing saturated with blood.

The clothing was first removed. Then with wet cloths the face and shoulders were hastily sponged off.

“Now, Ed,” said Irv, who lived, when at home, in the house with his uncle, a physician, and therefore knew better than any one else on the boat what to do for a wound, “you take the scissors and shear off Phil’s hair just as close to the scalp as you can, particularly around the wound. Hair is always full of microbes, you know.”

With that Irv passed through the hold and was absent for some little time. When he returned, he brought with him a teakettle of hot water which he had waited to boil, a basin, and a little box of salt.

“What are those for?” asked Ed, who had by this time reduced Phil to a condition of baldness.

“How much water is there above the false bottom now?” queried Phil, whose mind refused to be diverted from his duty as captain.

“The water to cleanse the wound, the salt to disinfect it, and I didn’t notice any water above the floor,” said Irv, replying to both questions in a single breath.

Ed laughed, but Phil eagerly asked, “You mean that the water doesn’t come over the flooring at all,—that there’s no water above the bilge?”

“I didn’t observe any,” said Irv, “but I wasn’t thinking particularly about it. I’ll go and look again.”

“No,” said Phil; “I’ll go myself if you’ll get me a lantern, for it’s so nearly dark now that it must be quite dark inside.”

When the lantern came, Phil made a hurried inspection with a blanket thrown over his otherwise bare shoulders. Then he thrust his shaven head above the deck and called to the two boys at the pumps:—

“I say, fellows, you can stop one of the pumps now, and keep only one going. One of you go below and get supper. Make it a hearty one, for we haven’t eaten a mouthful in twenty-four hours.”

In the day’s excitements not one of them had thought about food, but now that supper was mentioned they all realized that their appetites were voracious.

Having given his orders, Phil submitted himself again to the hands of his surgeons. Irv poured some of the hot water into a basin and added a tablespoonful or so of salt.

“You see,” he explained, “the trouble with wounds is that germs get into them, so the most important thing of all is to cleanse them thoroughly, and after that to keep them clean. I’m using boiled water”—he was sponging the wound as he talked,—“because boiling kills all the microbes there may be in water.”

“But what is the salt for?” asked Ed.

“To disinfect the wound. You see there must be lots of microbes in it already, and salt kills them. That’s what we salt meat for when we wish to preserve it. The salt kills microbes, and so the meat keeps sound.”

“Then it is the presence of microbes that causes decay in meat?”

“Yes, or decay in anything else. If we hadn’t thrown Jim Hughes’s whiskey overboard, I’d wash this wound with that. It would make Phil jump, but it would do the work. You know nothing decays in alcohol. However, the salt will do, I think.”

When Irv had satisfied himself that the wound was sufficiently cleansed, he drew the edges of the cut together and held them there with sticking plaster.

“Now, Ed,” he said, “won’t you please bring me some cloths that you’ll find in the oven of the stove?”

Ed went at once, but wondering. When he returned, Irv finished dressing the wound, and all went to supper.

“Why did you put the rags in the oven, Irv?” asked Ed. “I noticed you didn’t even try to keep them warm after I brought them to you.”

“Oh, no. I roasted them for the same reason that I boiled the water—to sterilize them.”

“You mean to kill the microbes?”

“Yes. You see everything is likely to be infested with disease germs, so you must never use anything about a wound without first sterilizing it with heat or some chemical. You can use unboiled water, of course, because water cleanses things anyhow, but it is better to use boiled water if you can get it, and every bandage should be carefully sterilized. That’s why I started the fire, boiled the water, and put the rags in the oven to roast.”

At supper Ed ate as voraciously as the rest, and the boys observed with satisfaction that the long fast, the very hard work, the severe strain of anxiety, and the prolonged exposure to the fog had in no way hurt him. Ed declared, indeed, that he was growing positively robust, and his comrades agreed with him.

“What’s the programme now, Phil?” asked one of the party when supper was done.

“A good night’s sleep,” answered the young captain. “In the morning we’ll consider further proceedings with clear heads. One pump is sufficient to keep ahead of the leaks now, and we shall have to keep that going night and day as long as we remain afloat. So usually we’ll keep two men awake to alternate at the pump, but for to-night we’ll stand short watches, keeping only one man awake at a time. Two watches of an hour each for each of us will take us through the night. I’ll take the first watch, as my head is aching too badly to sleep yet. So get to sleep, all of you. I’ll wake one of you in an hour or so.”

The boys objected. They wanted Phil to treat himself as an invalid, and let them do the watching and pumping, but he was obstinate in his determination to do his full share. So they stretched themselves in their bunks and were soon sleeping the sleep of very tired but very healthy young human animals.