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Show AN ACCIDENT AT SEA. <br><br> In the "Cruise of the Fiery Cross," now being published in the Boston Journal, "Kennebecker" graphically describes a sad accident at sea, and the skill of the mate in bone-setting. He says: <br><br> As the chief mate came upon the quarter deck I told him to set the mizzentop gallant sail, and went below for a moment having heard him give the order to loose the sail, and noticed some one spring up the rigging for that purpose. <br><br> All at once I heard a strange sound or jar or shock, and a simultaneous rush of people aft. In one instant I was on deck and there lay the English boy Bill over the spanker boom. <br><br> It was he that went to loose the top-gallant sail, lost his hold, the ship threw him aft as he fell headlong, his feet went between the parts of the peak halyards, turned him over (luckily to windward), broke both his legs short off below the knee, then he rolled down the spanker on to the boom, in all a distance of one hundred and ten feet. <br><br> He looked up and murmured "My poor legs." <br><br> We carried him into the after cabin, laid him down on a mattress covered with a rubber coat, and then saw the job we had got before us. <br><br> It was a double compound fracture of the worst kind. <br><br> The broken bones of each leg had penetrated through the calf, making two dangerous wounds, through which the blood was flowing. <br><br> The medical books were immediately brought out and consulted, and it seemed by them as though both limbs ought to be amputated. <br><br> But he was young and healthy, and it was cruel to think of mutilating him that way. So we decided to set them. <br><br> Bowline, the mate, who had performed a similar job on his last captain, who had broken his leg, took the job in hand, while I assisted with the splints and bandages. <br><br> I told the steward to give the patient a glass of Cognac, but the boy, who had not spoken or groaned, now said: <br><br> "Please don't sir, I never tasted it yet. I can have my legs cut off without it." <br><br> That was pluck, and I thought it a temperance lecture worth hearing. <br><br> So we closed up his wounds, made him a cot in the cabin, took a boy from cach? watch to attend him, watch and watch night and day, mixed up a solution of arnica and rum, kept his limbs moist, never let them dry a moment, and a fan was in motion over him constantly. <br><br> On the fourth day the inflammation was terrible (for we were now in the tropics), and he was in great pain, but he never complained. <br><br> How I feared mortification and his swollen limbs looked as though it had set in. <br><br> But I had a fracture-box made, the bottom of slat-work, to let the ??? from below, and a hinge under his knee-joints, so we could elevate his knees. <br><br> Thus he began to revive, and I think that saved him. His reason, which had left him at times, returned, and in four weeks we removed the bandages and dressed his wounds. <br><br> I never felt more relieved in my life than when I saw those wounds heal up, which they did, as the book says, by the second intention. <br><br> In forty days his attendant left [unreadable line] He sat up and did what work he could with his hands while sitting. <br><br> In sixty days from New York we made our first land, Tristan D'Acuanha [Tristan D'Acunha]. <br><br> I took him in my arms and carried him upon the house, put him in an easy chair and let him look at the island and the men at work about decks, as proudly as though he had been my own boy. <br><br> This seemed to us little less than a miracle; and on the ninetieth day he walked forward to the forecastle well, though it was a long time before I would let him run round much. <br><br> Why, we seamen ask, is it that, far away from medical aid, sailors get on so much better than their brethren on shore? <br><br> I can partly answer. <br><br> Abundance of fresh air, plenty of healthy exercise, the curative powers of old Ocean, simpleness of diet, all, in spite of want of care, convenience and a thousand attending hardships, serve to assist nature in restoring the patient. |
