"The cold will help. We shall take him outside, and I will remove the ball. Then he will have a chance. If we leave him here as he is he will die. We will carry him out into the light. Can you make these Injuns understand enough to provide a litter to carry him with?"

Kevin spoke. "Yes, we can, sir," he said.

The snow was still falling, but the flakes were smaller and the wind had begun to blow. Robbie was carried out, moaning, by two of the Creek boys, away from the house and into the trees. Old Creek Woman and I followed. I stood still, watching, as the doctor knelt beside him and said, "Have a draught, laddie. Aye, that's it. Keep his hands and feet covered so they don't freeze. Put this in his mouth. There now, laddie, we will have it out in just a shake of a lamb's tail. Bear up now. Are you not the descendent of Bonnie Prince Charlie, now? Sure, and you are."

He kept talking, but Robbie's groans grew over the sound of his voice. I felt myself about to faint; then my vision cleared and nausea surged into my throat. I turned away, down the path we had made, and vomited into the snow. Then I ran away from the sounds of Robbie's agony, past the houses, and down the path, until I could no longer hear.

____________________

The doctor refused to return Robbie to the Creek house; he insisted that he be carried at once to Barraigh. I was both relieved and afraid. Barraigh was two hours away on horseback in good weather; I feared that being carried on the litter would be agony for Robbie, and it was. The horses traveled slowly; the Creek boys who carried the litter trudged stoically between us. The wind grew stronger, the cold more intense, the snow deeper. Robbie's fever returned; his moans punctuated the sounds of the horses' breathing, and sometimes he cried out. Dusk had fallen by the time we came out of the mountain path and onto the road to Barraigh.

Kevin galloped ahead to announce our arrival. As the house came into sight, I felt an immense surge of relief. Now Robbie would be safe. Now he could mend. I whispered, "Thank God," and soon we were at the porch, and people were pouring out of the house, exclamations of relief and joy rising over the sound of the wind in my ears.

Robbie was carried into a bedroom and placed upon a bed covered with clean linen.

Pete appeared, saying, "Master Robbie, oh, sir, praise God, praise God!" and I heard Hamish's voice in the hallway, saying, "Is it young Robbie! Praise be to God!" and I began to weep, sinking down onto a chair in corner of the room.




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