Roughing It In The Bush, By Susanna Moodie











































































































































 -  If I did not find
him, upon my landing on the opposite shore, lying wallowing in his
blood with his - Page 106
Roughing It In The Bush, By Susanna Moodie - Page 106 of 349 - First - Home

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If I Did Not Find Him, Upon My Landing On The Opposite Shore, Lying Wallowing In His Blood With His Throat Cut.

'Is that you, Brian?' says I, giving him a kick with my foot, to see if he was alive or dead.

'What on earth tempted you to play me and F - - such a dirty, mean trick, as to go and stick yourself like a pig, bringing such a discredit upon the house? - and you so far from home and those who should nurse you?'

"I was so mad with him, that (saving your presence, ma'am) I swore awfully, and called him names that would be ondacent to repeat here; but he only answered with groans and a horrid gurgling in his throat. 'It's a choking you are,' said I, 'but you shan't have your own way, and die so easily, either, if I can punish you by keeping you alive.' So I just turned him upon his stomach, with his head down the steep bank; but he still kept choking and growing black in the face."

Layton then detailed some particulars of his surgical practice which it is not necessary to repeat. He continued -

"I bound up his throat with my handkerchief, and took him neck and heels, and threw him into the bottom of the boat. Presently he came to himself a little, and sat up in the boat; and - would you believe it? - made several attempts to throw himself in the water. 'This will not do,' says I; 'you've done mischief enough already by cutting your weasand! If you dare to try that again, I will kill you with the oar.' I held it up to threaten him; he was scared, and lay down as quiet as a lamb. I put my foot upon his breast. 'Lie still, now! or you'll catch it.' He looked piteously at me; he could not speak, but his eyes seemed to say, 'Have pity upon me, Ned; don't kill me.'

"Yes, ma'am; this man, who had just cut his throat, and twice arter that tried to drown himself, was afraid that I should knock him on the head and kill him. Ha! ha! I shall never forget the work that F - - and I had with him arter I got him up to the house.

"The doctor came, and sewed up his throat; and his wife - poor crittur! - came to nurse him. Bad as he was, she was mortal fond of him! He lay there, sick and unable to leave his bed, for three months, and did nothing but pray to God to forgive him, for he thought the devil would surely have him for cutting his own throat; and when he got about again, which is now twelve years ago, he left off drinking entirely, and wanders about the woods with his dogs, hunting. He seldom speaks to any one, and his wife's brother carries on the farm for the family. He is so shy of strangers that 'tis a wonder he came in here.

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