the autobiography of a quack-第14部分

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When　I　awoke　I　was　lying　in　the　cabin　near　by；　upon　a　pile　of　rubbish。　Ten　or　twelve　guerrillas　were　gathered　about　the　fire；　apparently　drawing　lots　for　my　watch；　boots；　hat；　etc。　I　now　made　an　effort　to　find　out　how　far　I　was　hurt。　I　discovered　that　I　could　use　the　left　forearm　and　hand　pretty　well；　and　with　this　hand　I　felt　the　right　limb　all　over　until　I　touched　the　wound。　The　ball　　had　passed　from　left　to　right　through　the　left　biceps；　and　directly　through　the　right　arm　just　below　the　shoulder；　emerging　behind。　The　right　arm　and　forearm　were　cold　and　perfectly　insensible。　I　pinched　them　as　well　as　I　could；　to　test　the　amount　of　sensation　remaining；　but　the　hand　might　as　well　have　been　that　of　a　dead　man。　I　began　to　understand　that　the　nerves　had　been　wounded；　and　that　the　part　was　utterly　powerless。　By　this　time　my　friends　had　pretty　well　divided　the　spoils；　and；　rising　together；　went　out。　The　old　woman　then　came　to　me；　and　said：　‘‘Reckon　you'd　best　git　up。　They…'uns　is　a…goin'　to　take　you　away。''　To　this　I　only　answered；　‘‘Water；　water。''　I　had　a　grim　sense　of　amusement　on　finding　that　the　old　woman　was　not　deaf；　for　she　went　out；　and　presently　came　back　with　a　gourdful；　which　I　eagerly　drank。　An　hour　later　the　graybacks　returned；　and　finding　that　I　was　too　weak　to　walk；　carried　me　out　and　laid　me　on　the　bottom　of　a　common　cart；　with　which　they　set　off　on　a　trot。　The　jolting　was　horrible；　but　within　an　hour　I　began　to　have　in　my　dead　right　hand　a　strange　burning；　which　was　rather　a　relief　to　me。　It　increased　as　the　sun　rose　and　the　day　grew　warm；　until　I　felt　　as　if　the　hand　was　caught　and　pinched　in　a　red…hot　vise。　Then　in　my　agony　I　begged　my　guard　for　water　to　wet　it　with；　but　for　some　reason　they　desired　silence；　and　at　every　noise　threatened　me　with　a　revolver。　At　length　the　pain　became　absolutely　unendurable；　and　I　grew　what　it　is　the　fashion　to　call　demoralized。　I　screamed；　cried；　and　yelled　in　my　torture；　until；　as　I　suppose；　my　captors　became　alarmed；　and；　stopping；　gave　me　a　handkerchief；my　own；　I　fancy；and　a　canteen　of　water；　with　which　I　wetted　the　hand；　to　my　unspeakable　relief。

It　is　unnecessary　to　detail　the　events　by　which；　finally；　I　found　myself　in　one　of　the　rebel　hospitals　near　Atlanta。　Here；　for　the　first　time；　my　wounds　were　properly　cleansed　and　dressed　by　a　Dr。　Oliver　T。　Wilson；　who　treated　me　throughout　with　great　kindness。　I　told　him　I　had　been　a　doctor；　which；　perhaps；　may　have　been　in　part　the　cause　of　the　unusual　tenderness　with　which　I　was　managed。　The　left　arm　was　now　quite　easy；　although；　as　will　be　seen；　it　never　entirely　healed。　The　right　arm　was　worse　than　ever　the　humerus　broken；　the　nerves　wounded；　and　the　hand　alive　only　to　pain。　I　use　this　phrase　because　it　is　connected　in　my　mind　　with　a　visit　from　a　local　visitor；I　am　not　sure　he　was　a　preacher；who　used　to　go　daily　through　the　wards；　and　talk　to　us　or　write　our　letters。　One　morning　he　stopped　at　my　bed；　when　this　little　talk　occurred：

‘‘How　are　you；　lieutenant？''

‘‘Oh；''　said　I；　‘‘as　usual。　All　right；　but　this　hand；　which　is　dead　except　to　pain。''

‘‘Ah；''　said　he；　‘‘such　and　thus　will　the　wicked　besuch　will　you　be　if　you　die　in　your　sins：　you　will　go　where　only　pain　can　be　felt。　For　all　eternity；　all　of　you　will　be　just　like　that　handknowing　pain　only。''

I　suppose　I　was　very　weak；　but　somehow　I　felt　a　sudden　and　chilling　horror　of　possible　universal　pain；　and　suddenly　fainted。　When　I　awoke　the　hand　was　worse；　if　that　could　be。　It　was　red；　shining；　aching；　burning；　and；　as　it　seemed　to　me；　perpetually　rasped　with　hot　files。　When　the　doctor　came　I　begged　for　morphia。　He　said　gravely：　‘‘We　have　none。　You　know　you　don't　allow　it　to　pass　the　lines。''　It　was　sadly　true。

I　turned　to　the　wall；　and　wetted　the　hand　again；　my　sole　relief。　In　about　an　hour　Dr。　Wilson　came　back　with　two　aids；　and　explained　to　me　that　the　bone　was　so　crushed　as　to　make　it　hopeless　to　save　it；　and　that；　besides；　amputation　offered　some　chance　of　arresting　the　pain。　I　had　thought　of　this　before；　but　the　anguish　I　feltI　cannot　say　enduredwas　so　awful　that　I　made　no　more　of　losing　the　limb　than　of　parting　with　a　tooth　on　account　of　toothache。　Accordingly；　brief　preparations　were　made；　which　I　watched　with　a　sort　of　eagerness　such　as　must　forever　be　inexplicable　to　any　one　who　has　not　passed　six　weeks　of　torture　like　that　which　I　had　suffered。

I　had　but　one　pang　before　the　operation。　As　I　arranged　myself　on　the　left　side；　so　as　to　make　it　convenient　for　the　operator　to　use　the　knife；　I　asked：　‘‘Who　is　to　give　me　the　ether？''　‘‘We　have　none；''　said　the　person　questioned。　I　set　my　teeth；　and　said　no　more。

I　need　not　describe　the　operation。　The　pain　felt　was　severe；　but　it　was　insignificant　as　compared　with　that　of　any　other　minute　of　the　past　six　weeks。　The　limb　was　removed　very　near　to　the　shoulder…joint。　As　the　second　incision　was　made；　I　felt　a　strange　flash　of　pain　play　through　the　limb；　as　if　it　were　in　every　minutest　fibril　of　nerve。　This　was　followed　by　instant；　unspeakable　relief；　and　before　the　flaps　were　brought　together　I　was　　sound　asleep。　I　dimly　remember　saying；　as　I　pointed　to　the　arm　which　lay　on　the　floor：　‘‘There　is　the　pain；　and　here　am　I。　How　queer！''　Then　I　sleptslept　the　sleep　of　the　just；　or；　better；　of　the　painless。　From　this　time　forward　I　was　free　from　neuralgia。　At　a　subsequent　period　I　saw　a　number　of　cases　similar　to　mine　in　a　hospital　in　Philadelphia。

It　is　no　part　of　my　plan　to　detail　my　weary　months　of　monotonous　prison　life　in　the　South。　In　the　early　part　of　April；　1863；　I　was　exchanged；　and　after　the　usual　thirty　days'　furlough　returned　to　my　regiment　a　captain。

On　the　19th　of　September；　1863；　occurred　the　battle　of　Chickamauga；　in　which　my　regiment　took　a　conspicuous　part。　The　close　of　our　own　share　in　this　contest　is；　as　it　were；　burned　into　my　memory　with　every　least　detail。　It　was　about　6　P。　M。；　when　we　found　ourselves　in　line；　under　cover　of　a　long；　thin　row　of　scrubby　trees；　beyond　which　lay　a　gentle　slope；　from　which；　again；　rose　a　hill　rather　more　abrupt；　and　crowned　with　an　earthwork。　We　received　orders　to　cross　this　space　and　take　the　fort　in　front；　while　a　brigade　on　our　right　was　to　make　a　like　movement　on　its　flank。

Just　before　we　emerged　into　the　open　ground；　we　noticed　what；　I　think；　was　common　in　many　fightsthat　the　enemy　had　begun　to　bowl　round　shot　at　us；　probably　from　failure　of　shell。　We　passed　across　the　valley　in　good　order；　although　the　men　fell　rapidly　all　along　the　line。　As　we　climbed　the　hill；　our　pace　slackened；　and　the　fire　grew　heavier。　At　this　moment　a　battery　opened　on　our　left；　the　shots　crossing　our　heads　obliquely。　It　is　this　moment　which　is　so　printed　on　my　recollection。　I　can　see　now；　as　if　through　a　window；　the　gray　smoke；　lit　with　red　flashes；　the　long；　wavering　line；　the　sky　blue　above；　the　trodden　furrows；　blotted　with　blue　blouses。　Then　it　was　as　if　the　window　closed；　and　I　knew　and　saw　no　more。　No　other　scene　in　my　life　is　thus　scarred；　if　I　may　say　so；　into　my　memory。　I　have　a　fancy　that　the　horrible　shock　which　suddenly　fell　upon　me　must　have　had　something　to　do　with　thus　intensifying　the　momentary　image　then　before　my　eyes。

When　I　awakened；　I　was　lying　under　a　tree　somewhere　at　the　rear。　The　ground　was　covered　with　wounded；　and　the　doctors　were　busy　at　an　operating…table；　improvised　from　two　barrels　and　a　plank。　At　length　two　of　　them　who　were　examining　the　wounded　about　me　came　up　to　where　I　lay。　A　hospital　steward　raised　my　head　and　poured　down　some　brandy　and　water；　while　another　cut　loose　my　pantaloons。　The　doctors　exchanged　looks　and　walked　away。　I　asked　the　steward　where　I　was　hit。

‘‘Both　thighs；''　said　he；　‘‘the　doctors　won't　do　nothing。''

‘‘No　use？''　said　I。

‘‘Not　much；''　said　he。

‘‘Not　much　means　none　at　all；''　I　answered。

When　he　had　gone　I　set　myself　to　thinking　about　a　good　many　things　I　had　better　have　thought　of　before；　but　which　in　no　way　concern　the　history　of　my　case。　A　half…hour　went　by。　I　had　no　pain；　and　did　not　get　weaker。　At　last；　I　cannot　explain　why；　I　began　to　look　about　me。　At　first　things　appeared　a　little　hazy。　I　remember　one　thing　which　thrilled　me　a　little；　even　then。

A　tall；　blond…bearded　major　walked　up　to　a　doctor　near　me；　saying；　‘‘When　you've　a　little　leisure；　just　take　a　look　at　my　side。''

‘‘Do　it　now；''　said　the　doctor。

The　officer　exposed　his　wound。　‘‘Ball　went　in　here；　and　out　there。''

The　doctor　looked　up　at　himhalf　pity；　　half　amazement。　‘‘If　you've　got　any　message；　you'd　best　send　it　by　me。''

‘‘Why；　you　don't　say　it's　serious？''　was　the　reply。

‘‘Serious！　Why；　you're　shot　through　the　stomach。　You　won't　live　over　the　day。''

Then　the　man　did　what　struck　me　as　a　very　odd　thing。　He　said；　‘‘Anybody　got　a　pipe？''　Some　one　gave　him　a　pipe。　He　filled　it　deliberately；　struck　a　light　with　a　flint；　and　sat　down　against　a　tree　near　to　me。　Presently　the　doctor　came　to　him　again；　and　asked　him　what　he　could　do　for　him。

‘‘Send　me　a　drink　of　Bourbon。''

‘‘Anything　else？''

‘‘No。''

As　the　doctor　left　him；　he　called　him　back。　‘‘It's　a　little　rough；　doc；　isn't　it？''

No　more　passed；　and　I　saw　this　man　no　longer。　Another　set　of　doctors　were　handling　my　legs；　for　the　first　time　causing　pain。　A　mome