"The
canon of Wolf Creek is as bad as the canon of the Middle Yuba. And
there's Kanaka Creek beyond."
"Then again, whichever way you go," responded his brother, "you ain't
sure of finding the doctor. Better take the old man with us and make for
Alleghany, I guess."
This seemed the most feasible plan. So they saddled Palmer's sure-footed
horse, put his sick master into the saddle, and started down the trail
across the canon of Wolf Creek. It was a long, hard trip. To the Woolsey
boys, holding and steadying the old man, the canon had never seemed so
deep. At last they reached the Plumbago Mine, on the opposite height,
where they borrowed two mules to carry them the rest of the way. It was
easy going now as far as Chipp's Flat. Late in the evening they climbed
the steep trail from Kanaka Creek to Alleghany City, took their charge
to the hotel, and hunted up Dr. Lefevre.
So began a long, hard sickness, the first serious sickness Robert Palmer
had suffered since his arrival in the gold fields. For days he lay
helpless. As soon as he was sufficiently recovered to take notice of his
surroundings, he begged to be moved from the noisy hotel, with its
sickening smells, to the cabin of an old friend named Lee, who lived
some distance from the main street.
Pages:
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109