"I'll be all right in a minute," insisted the major.

"We can all move off the trail, and have breakfast," proposed Fitz.

"That will give him a chance to rest. We ought to have something to eat, anyway."

So we moved back from the trail, around a bend of the creek. The major could scarcely walk, he was so doubled over with cramps; Scout Ward and I stayed by to help him. But there was not much that we could do, in such a case. He leaned on us some, and that was all.

He tried lying on his side, while we unpacked Sally; and then we got him upon a blanket, with a roll for a pillow. Red Fox Scout Van Sant hustled to the creek with a cup, and fixed up a dose.

"Here," he said to the major, "swallow this."

"What is it?"

"Ginger. It ought to fix you out."

So it ought. The major swallowed it--and it was so hot it made the tears come into his eyes. In a moment he thought that he did feel better, and we were glad. We went ahead with breakfast, but he didn't eat anything, which was wise. A crampy stomach won't digest food and then you are worse.

We didn't hurry him, after breakfast. We knew that as soon as he could travel, he would. But we found that his feeling better wasn't lasting.

Now that the burning of the ginger had worn off, he was as bad as ever.

We were mighty sorry for him, as he turned and twisted, trying to find an easier position. A stomach-ache like that must have been is surely hard to stand.

Fitz got busy. Fitzpatrick is pretty good at doctoring. He wants to be a doctor, some day. And the Red Fox Scouts knew considerable about first-aids and simple Scouts' remedies.

"What kind of an ache is it, Tom?" queried Fitz. We were too bothered to call him "Major." "Sharp? Or steady?"

"It's a throbby ache. Keeps right at the job, though," grunted the major.

"Where?"

"Here." And the major pointed to the pit of his stomach, below the breast-bone. "It's a funny ache, too. I can't seem to strike any position that it likes."

"It isn't sour and burning, is it?" asked Red Fox Scout Ward.

"Uh uh. It's a green-apple ache, or as if I'd swallowed a corner of a brick."

We had to laugh. Still, that ache wasn't any laughing matter.

"Do you feel sick?"

"Just from the pain."

"We all ate the same, and we didn't drink out of that tin can, so it can't be poison, and it doesn't sound like just indigestion," mused Fitz to us. "Maybe we ought to give him an emetic. Shall we, Tom?"

"I don't think I need any emetic. There's nothing there," groaned the major. "Maybe I've caught cold. I guess the cramps will quit. Wish I had a hot-water bag or a hot brick."

"We'll heat water and lay a hot compress on. That will help," spoke Red Fox Scout Van Sant. "Ought to have thought of it before."

"Wait a minute, boys," bade Fitz. "Lie still as long as you can, Tom, while I feel you."

He unb.u.t.toned the major's shirt (the major had taken off his belt and loosened his waist-band, already) and began to explore about with his fingers.

"The ache's up here," explained the major. "Up in the middle of my stomach."

"But is it sore anywhere else?" asked Fitz, pressing about. "Say ouch."

The major said ouch.

"Sore right under there?" queried Fitz.

The major nodded.

We noted where Fitz was pressing with his fingers--and suddenly it flashed across me what he was finding out. The _ache_ was in the pit of the stomach, but the _sore spot_ was lower and down toward the right hip.

Fitz experimented here and there, not pressing very hard; and he always could make the major say ouch, for the one spot.

"I believe he's got appendicitis," announced Fitz, gazing up at us.

"It looks that way, sure," agreed Red Fox Scout Van Sant. "My brother had appendicitis, and that's how they went to work on him."

"My father had it, is how I knew about it," explained Fitz.

"Aw, thunder!" grunted the major. "It's just a stomach-ache." He hated to be fussed with. "I'll get over it. A hot-water bag is all I need."

"No, you don't," spoke Fitz, quickly--as Red Fox Scout Ward was stirring the fire. "Hot water would be dangerous, and if it's appendicitis we shan't take any risks. They use an ice-pack in appendicitis. We'll put on cold water instead of hot, and I'm going to give him a good stiff dose of Epsom salts. I'm afraid to give him anything else."

That sounded like sense, except that the cold water instead of the hot was something new. And it was queer that if the major's appendix was what caused the trouble the ache should be off in the middle of his stomach. But Fitz was certain that he was right, and so we went ahead.

The treatment wasn't the kind to do any harm, even if we were wrong in the theory. The Epsom salts would clean out most disturbances, and help reduce any inflammation. (Note 64.)

The major was suffering badly. To help relieve him, we discussed which was worse, tooth-ache or stomach-ache. The Red Foxes took the tooth-ache side and we Elks the stomach-ache side; and we won, because the major put in his grunts for the stomach-ache. We piled a wet pack of handkerchiefs and gauze on his stomach, over the right lower angle, where the appendix ought to be; and we changed it before it got warmed.

The water from the creek was icy cold. We kept at it, and after a while the major was feeling much better.

And now he began to chafe because he was delaying the march. It was almost noon. The two renegade recruits had not come along yet. They might not come at all; they might be looking around for Sally, without sense enough to read the sign. But the major was anxious to be pushing on again.

"I don't think you ought to," objected Fitz.

"But I'm all right."

"You may not be, if you stir around much," said Red Fox Scout Ward.

"What do you want me to do? Lie here for the rest of my life?" The major was cross.

"No; but you ought to be carried some place where you can have a doctor, if it's appendicitis."

"I don't believe it is. It's just a sort of colic. I'm all right now, if we go slowly."

"But don't you think that we'd better find some place where we can take you?" asked Fitz.

"You fellows leave me, then, and go on. Somebody will come along, or I'll follow slow. Those Red Foxes must get to their train, and you two Elks must carry the message through on time."