Grenfell reached the harbor where he was to board
the mail boat upon her arrival. He was wearied and stiff in his joints
after the hard overland hike with a heavy pack on his back, and
looking forward to rest and a good meal, he went directly to the home
of a mission clergyman living in the little village.
His welcome was hearty, as a welcome always is on this coast. The
clergyman showered him with kindnesses. A pot of steaming tea and an
appetizing meal was on the table in a jiffy. It was luxury after the
long days on the trail and Grenfell sat down with anticipation of keen
enjoyment.
At the moment that Grenfell seated himself the door opened
unceremoniously, and an excited fisherman burst into the room with the
exclamation:
"For God's sake, some one come! Come and save my brother's life! He's
bleeding to death!"
Dr. Grenfell learned in a few hurried inquiries that the man's
brother had accidentally shot his leg nearly off an hour before and
was already in a comatose condition from loss of blood. The family
lived five miles distant, and the only way to reach the cabin where
the wounded man lay was on foot.
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