Dr. Dobbs is there besides." I
asked who Dr. Dobbs might be. "One of our St. Louis doctors,"
replied Tete Rouge. For two days past I had been severely attacked
by the same disorder which had so greatly reduced my strength when at
the mountains; at this time I was suffering not a little from the
sudden pain and weakness which it occasioned. Tete Rouge, in answer
to my inquiries, declared that Dr. Dobbs was a physician of the first
standing. Without at all believing him, I resolved to consult this
eminent practitioner. Walking over to the camp, I found him lying
sound asleep under one of the wagons. He offered in his own person
but an indifferent specimen of his skill, for it was five months
since I had seen so cadaverous a face.
His hat had fallen off, and his yellow hair was all in disorder; one
of his arms supplied the place of a pillow; his pantaloons were
wrinkled halfway up to his knees, and he was covered with little bits
of grass and straw, upon which he had rolled in his uneasy slumber.
A Mexican stood near, and I made him a sign that he should touch the
doctor. Up sprang the learned Dobbs, and, sitting upright, rubbed
his eyes and looked about him in great bewilderment. I regretted the
necessity of disturbing him, and said I had come to ask professional
advice. "Your system, sir, is in a disordered state," said he
solemnly, after a short examination.
I inquired what might be the particular species of disorder.
"Evidently a morbid action of the liver," replied the medical man; "I
will give you a prescription."
Repairing to the back of one of the covered wagons, he scrambled in;
for a moment I could see nothing of him but his boots. At length he
produced a box which he had extracted from some dark recess within,
and opening it, he presented me with a folded paper of some size.
"What is it?" said I. "Calomel," said the doctor.
Under the circumstances I would have taken almost anything. There
was not enough to do me much harm, and it might possibly do good; so
at camp that night I took the poison instead of supper.
That camp is worthy of notice. The traders warned us not to follow
the main trail along the river, "unless," as one of them observed,
"you want to have your throats cut!" The river at this place makes a
bend; and a smaller trail, known as the Ridge-path, leads directly
across the prairie from point to point, a distance of sixty or
seventy miles.
We followed this trail, and after traveling seven or eight miles, we
came to a small stream, where we encamped. Our position was not
chosen with much forethought or military skill. The water was in a
deep hollow, with steep, high banks; on the grassy bottom of this
hollow we picketed our horses, while we ourselves encamped upon the
barren prairie just above.
