In the next fleet the same scenes made things in general lively. The
skipper of the ordinary Mission smack came on board, and joyously cried:
"I'm main glad you're come, sir. We've got one case that beats me. I
can't do anything at all." Sir James Eoche's boat with the balanced
stretcher was sent, and a crippled man was whipped up and slid along
the boarding-stage before he had time to recover from his surprise. He
had a broken patella--a nasty case--and he had gained the distinction of
being the first man put to bed in that airy, charming ward. He will
probably claim this honour with more or less emphasis during the rest of
his lifetime. I fear that curiosity of an aggravated kind caused one or
two gentlemen to be suddenly afflicted with minor complaints; but
Ferrier had a delightful way of dealing with doubtful martyrs, and the
vessel was soon cleared of them.
So the _Robert Cassall_ scoured the North Sea like a phantom, sometimes
crawling in the wake of the fleet when the gear was down, sometimes
flying from one bank to another. In the course of two long, sweeping
rounds she proved that she was worth all the other cruisers put
together--for medical and surgical purposes alone. Danger was reduced to
a minimum, and the sick men were, one by one, returned safely to their
own vessels. When, on a rather calm day, a tubular boat was tried, and
a prostrate man was seen flying over the water with what intelligent
constables call "no visible means of support," the general opinion of
the smacksmen was that no one never knowed what would come next.
Pages:
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186