An Untamed Heart (12 page)

“We can’t leave him here.”

“Nei.” He was looking up at the trail when he heard a horse nicker. “The others are nearly here.”

Ingeborg studied their patient, who had faded out again. “If he would stay unconscious, it would be easier for him.” She picked up his hand. Soft. Not a workingman’s hand. Who was this man and how would they help him?

“Do you have your knife along?”

“Ja.”

“See his backpack over there? See if he has a tent or a blanket so I can cover him. Start punching holes in the sides of any blanket you find, so we can bind it to the staves.”

He dug in the backpack and pulled out a tent and a blanket. “What about using his tent to carry him?”

“That would be harder to punch through and lace.”

“Ingeborg?” Three welcome faces appeared up at the trail.

“Good. Be careful coming down here. The scree slides easily, and we don’t need rocks coming down on him. Or someone else getting hurt. Anders, Tor, do you have knives?”

“I do,” Tor answered.

“Good. Bring the supplies down. We have to figure a way to get him up to the trail.”
And keep him alive.
She flinched when she heard him cough. One more thing. She laid a hand
on his forehead. Fever? A shiver shook him from head to booted foot. Even in his stupor, he flinched.

Ingeborg shook her head. She’d never treated anything this severe before. Not on a human. What would her mor do? What would a doctor do?
Lord, help
!

“Don’t bother inventing the wheel if that has already been done.”

“Use the brains God gave you.”

Her far’s truisms were all delivered in the appropriate places—often.

“Girls don’t do that!”

Her mor’s advice. Ingeborg dismissed it. Right now, for sure it did not apply.

After covering her patient, she sat close by the young man’s head, her knees drawn up with her arms across them, and let her imagination try out different scenarios. He had mentioned his ribs and obviously suffered immense pain whenever he coughed or spoke. Onkel Frode broke three ribs once. She was young at the time, but she still remembered how they treated the injury.

When their favorite milk cow broke a leg, her far cared about the poor beast so much that he called in the doctor. The doctor had explained that when a long bone is broken, whether in cows or humans, the muscles around the break
bunch up to draw it together. But if the broken ends are not exactly aligned, the muscles will push them right past each other and out through the skin. This young man’s broken bone had not pierced the skin. But when they began to move him, the bone might shift, no matter how well splinted, and they would have an open bleeding wound. What would she do then?

And to get him up out of this steep ravine . . . Her mind raced, calculating . . . She stood up. “I think I have the solution. Let us pray it works.”

First a fire to warm him as much as possible. Then splint the leg and build a litter that would carry him safely. There was no chance he could walk even a step on his own. Then get him up out of the ravine onto level ground. “Gather twigs and tinder as you come down. We must get a fire going.”

“Hjelmer, use your knife to cut chunks out of the middle of this shortest walking staff until we can break it in half. We’ll use it for the splint.”

“Here?” He pointed to the middle of it.

“Ja.”

Hjelmer set instantly to work.

“The two longest staves will be the handles of the litter we will make to carry him. Kari, I need your petticoat. We’ll end up using mine also.”

Bless the child. She didn’t hesitate to get her petticoat off. Ingeborg tore the cotton petticoat into strips. She would use these to bind the blanket to the staves for the litter, rather than using up their precious bandages. “Heat some rocks to warm him. Does anyone have a cup?”

“No, but my hat might work, to carry water anyway.”

“Good idea. Put a hot rock in it.”

While Kari and Anders nursed their minute fire, Hjelmer propped one end of the staff on a rock and stomped on the middle. It broke in two where he’d been chipping. After feeding the chips to the growing flame, Kari fetched water from the creek.

Nils coughed and blinked. His cheek twitched.

Ingeborg shook her head. Was he trying to smile in spite of all this?

“Will this be all right? I smoothed what I could.” Hjelmer and Tor held out their handiwork.

“Good. We will splint the leg now.”

Kneeling in and on the rocks, Tor and Hjelmer slid their hands beneath the injured leg where Ingeborg indicated and lifted slightly. Good. She forced herself to move slowly and with great care as she bound the two sticks tightly against the young man’s leg. Surely it would work.
Lord willing. Please, Lord
.
How do we move this rock that binds him?

Kari nursed the fire and water as the others did the man. Slipping the warmed rock into the hat spilled part of the water. “The water is warming.”

Ingeborg rocked back on her heels. “We will dribble some into his mouth. Tor, bring some of the warmed rocks over.”

Nils blinked, his eyes slitting open. “Drink this.” Ingeborg held the edge of the cap against his mouth. A small victory but a step forward. A twitch of his head said enough. She handed the hat back to Kari. “See if you can heat enough to warm his hands.”

“Like this?” Tor held up their handiwork, white strips of petticoat lacing the blanket to one of the remaining staves.

“Very good. Bring it here.”

“But I am not done.”

“I know.” She reached for the unlaced side of the blanket. “We cannot lift him into a litter, so we will build it around him. Tor, Anders, you kneel by his other side there and work the blanket in under him. Hjelmer and I will draw it out this side. Kari, cradle his head in both hands. That’s the way. Good girl!”

The hiker’s body jiggled as they worked. He opened his eyes and mouth and said something on the order of “Eh,” but then his eyes rolled up and back, and he slipped away again.

It took a surprisingly long time to get the blanket squared beneath him. Then they laced in the remaining staff and rolled up the staves tightly until they were close against the young man’s body. Ingeborg knotted the leftover petticoat strips into a long rope and tied the young man snugly into his litter.

Hjelmer stood grinning at their work. “Brilliant!”

“Now to move that rock. You push and I will pull.” But the rock did not move.

“We need a lever.” Anders stood and looked around. “Down there. That must be his staff.” He fetched it while Hjelmer and Tor dug out some smaller stone and gravel to make a hole for the end. Using another stick to dig and levering with the staff, they finally loosened the rock the few inches needed to free the prisoner. They all wiped dripping sweat from their faces and stood panting.

“We’re only half done. Let us try lifting him.” She pointed to the handles formed by the staff ends. “Hjelmer? Tor? Anders?” She took the fourth handle. “On the count of three. One. Two. Three.”

The litter lurched and wagged as it rose. Their patient moaned.

Once they were free of the rock prison, she ordered, “Let
him down, carefully.” As she feared, the smaller boys had trouble carrying the fellow when they stood there. They would never be able to get him up the steep slope. “How much rope is left?”

Kari scrambled up the scree and disappeared. She returned in a moment, sticking her head over the edge to call, “Two long ones.”

“Throw the end of one of them down here. Just the end.” It flopped at her feet. How to attach it to the litter? It was long enough that she could weave it among the staff ends. Would that hold? Yes. Would her idea work?
Please, God! Oh, please!

“Now please listen carefully. We will move him up the slope feet first, so that if any rocks come loose and fall, they’ll hit his feet, if at all. I will take the handles by his head. We will try to keep him as smooth as possible. Hjelmer, you and Anders will each take a side at his feet. Do you understand so far?”

Hjelmer nodded. Anders looked worried, so he understood, obviously.

Ingeborg called, “Kari, you stay up there. Get the horse. We will use the horse to draw him up the slope, but only one step at a time. Can you get the horse to take a step only when we ask?”

“Oh ja! We’re friends.”

Ingeborg smiled.

“Wait! I’m stronger than Anders,” Tor protested. “Let me take a side.”

“That is right. You are. I need your strength for the most important job. Horses mean well, but sometimes they bolt or shy. We will not tie the rope fast to the saddle. We’ll loop it around the saddle. Then you, Tor, will hold on to it tightly.
If the horse starts to act up, you will release the rope immediately so that the litter is not dragged. Can you do that?”

Now Tor was grinning too. “I will do it!” He clambered up the slope.

Kari brought the horse to the lip of the ravine. Ingeborg could just barely see its rump. She could not see Tor wrapping the rope around the saddle, but she could tell the way it moved that he was doing it well.

“Wait. I need to add the other rope.”

The rope finally went taut. Tor called, “We’re ready.”

“Hjelmer, Anders, we will raise and turn the litter so that his feet are next to the slope and his head end out here.” What was the word? Perpendicular. They now had the litter perpendicular to the slope. “Now lift his feet out and away from the ground.” She raised her end and called, “One step, Kari.”

The rope jerked upward and stopped. Hjelmer and Anders let the litter handles rest against the slope. The young man was now an arm’s length up the slope. Hjelmer and Anders braced themselves in the scree and lifted the litter free.

Another step. Another short distance. Another step. Another bit.

The litter had progressed far enough upward that now Ingeborg had to hold it while dealing with the loose scree beneath her feet. She could not raise her end far enough to keep it level. The fellow would just have to go up the slope with his head tilted downward. It was the best they could do.

And then, glory of glories, Hjelmer and Anders reached the top. Tor let loose the rope and hurried down to help Ingeborg. One more lift and the young man lay on nearly level ground.

Ingeborg was breathing so heavily she could not speak.
She flopped to sitting. Her arms and shoulders ached even worse than when she had done that plowing. But together they had done it.
Thank you, Father! Thank you!
She could not stop praising Him.

She sat up straight. “All right. Kari, will you go back to the seter and bring the others? As many as you can, all but Mari. We will take turns and rest frequently, but still, we need all the help we can get carrying him.”

“May I ride the horse?” she asked eagerly.

“Of course.”

The girl scrambled aboard and nudged the old horse in the sides, sending him picking his way between the rocks and sand.

Despite her speed on the main trail, it was nearly an hour before Gunlaug and the others appeared on the track ahead. Gunlaug studied their patient.

“I see he is still breathing, but do you really think there is any chance he can live through all this?”

“Please, God, let it be so.” Gratefully, Ingeborg turned the whole thing over to Gunlaug and simply trailed behind for a few paces. She’d not traded off like the others.

A miserable thought struck her. They had left the young man’s rucksack where he had fallen in the ravine. Perhaps tomorrow she would ask Hjelmer to go find the rest of the man’s belongings and bring them in. But not today. The boys had done more than enough today. Men’s work. They looked as weary as she felt.

Enough idling. She quickened her step and rejoined Gunlaug, sharing the foot end of the litter.

Gunlaug moved aside, falling into step beside Ingeborg. She flexed her arms and shoulders. “This is worse than carrying
milk pails clear to town. Where shall we put him? We can’t get him up into the loft.”

“Near the fire, with as much padding under him as we can manage. Do you remember when our cow broke her leg?”

“Your cow? Oh, wait. Ja, I remember. Your far called the doctor, and the doctor put a strange sort of splint on it. He even had a name for it.”

“We must do the same with this fellow’s leg. And very soft pillows for his poor head. It has been quite beaten upon. But I don’t know what to do about the ribs.”

“What about the ribs?”

“Apparently some of them are smashed as well.”

Gunlaug wagged her head sadly.

As they finally, gratefully, approached the house, Mari came running out. “Do I set a place at the table for the hiker?” She looked at the litter. “Nei, I suppose not.” And ran back to the house.

When Ingeborg entered the house, she saw the long table set and waiting. She could smell something delicious—more than one smell. Mari had been busy indeed.

Near the fireplace they folded as many pillows and blankets as they could find and carefully laid the young man down. Ingeborg and Gunlaug unrolled the staves from the blanket and removed the laces. They folded the free sides of the blanket up over the young man.

“We have to get him warm,” Ingeborg said. “Heat some rocks to put beside him.” He stirred and opened his eyes. When he saw Ingeborg, he smiled slightly. Apparently he was aware, so she introduced him to her cousin Gunlaug. He drifted off again moments later as the younger ones were seating themselves at the table.

“Ja. Time to eat.” Ingeborg joined them. “Hjelmer?”

He recited grace quite rapidly. Mari brought bowls to the table—boiled pork and potatoes, molasses on winter squash, and dried peas with dandelion greens that had finally made an appearance on the hills. What a feast!

“And dessert,” she announced, setting out a platter of lefse. She took the one chair left, beside Ingeborg. “I did not have enough potatoes, so I made it with extra flour and some of the buttermilk. I thought it tasted good.”

“Mari, this is wonderful.” Ingeborg paused to savor the squash. “A real feast, complete with lefse! And a feast is very appropriate.” She looked around the table. “All of you! You all worked together in concert perfectly. I am so proud of you! We did an impossible job, and we did it as well as it could be done. You not only worked together and did what was needed of you, you did more than a person can do, sometimes even more than a grown-up would do. I can’t praise you enough. Thank you. And thanks to our heavenly Father.”

Hjelmer responded around a full mouth. “Ja, and you too, Ingeborg.”

Mari smiled. “You all were gone so long, I didn’t know if it would be a happy feast or a funeral feast. I’m so glad it’s a happy feast.”