The Story of Grenfell of the Labrador Part 8

"What have you been doing since?" asked Moody.

What has Grenfell been doing since? He has established hospitals at Battle Harbor, Indian Harbor, Harrington and Northwest River in Labrador, and at St. Anthony in northeastern Newfoundland. He has established schools and nursing stations both in Labrador and Newfoundland. He has built and maintains two orphanages. He founded the Seamen's Inst.i.tute in St. Johns.

Year after year, since that summer's day when the _Albert_ anch.o.r.ed in Domino Run and Grenfell first met the men of the Newfoundland fis.h.i.+ng fleet and the liveyeres of the Labrador coast, winter and summer, Grenfell himself and the doctors that a.s.sist him have patrolled that long desolate coast giving the best that was in them to the people that lived there. Grenfell has preached the Word, fed the hungry, clothed the naked, sheltered the homeless and righted many wrongs. He has fought disease and poverty, evil and oppression. Hards.h.i.+p, peril and prejudice have fallen to his lot, but he has met them with a courage and determination that never faltered, and he is still "up and at it."

Grenfell's life has been a life of service to others. Freely and joyfully he has given himself and all that was in him to the work of making others happier, and the people of the coast love and trust him.

With pathetic confidence they lean upon him and call him in their need, as children lean upon their father, and he has never failed to respond. When a man who had lost a leg felt the need for an artificial one, he appealed to Grenfell:

Docter plase I whant to see you. Docter sir have you got a leg if you have Will you plase send him Down Praps he may fet and you would oblig.

One who wished clothing for his family wrote:

To Dr. Gransfield Dear honrabel Sir, I would be pleased to ask you Sir if you would be pleased to give me and my wife a littel poor close. I was going in the Bay to cut some wood. But I am all amost blind and cant Do much so if you would spear me some Sir I would Be very thankful to you Sir.

Calls to visit the sick are continuously received. The following are genuine examples:

Reverance dr. Grandfell. Dear sir we are expecting you hup and we would like for you to come so quick as you can for my dater is very sick with a very large sore under her left harm we emenangin that the old is two enchis deep and two enches wide plase com as quick as you can to save life I remains yours truely.

Docker--Please wel you send me somting for the pain in my feet and what you proismed to send my little boy. Docker I am almost cripple, it is up my hips, I can hardly walk. This is my housban is gaining you this note.

doctor--i have a compleant i ham weak with wind on the chest, weakness all over me up in my harm.

Dear Dr. Grenfell.

I would like for you to Have time to come Down to my House Before you leaves to go to St. Anthony. My little Girl is very Bad. it seems all in Her neck. Cant Ply her Neck forward if do she nearly goes in the fits. i dont know what it is the matter with Her myself. But if you would see Her you would know what the matter with Her. Please send a word by the Bearer what gives you this note and let me know where you will have time to come down to my House, i lives down the Bay a Place called Berry Head.

These people are made of the same clay as you and I. They are moved by the same human emotions. They love those who are near and dear to them no less than we love those who are near and dear to us. The same heights or depths of joy and sorrow, hopes and disappointments enter into their lives. In the following chapters let us meet some of them, and travel with Doctor Grenfell as he goes about his work among them.

XI

UNCLE WILLIE WOLFREY

One bitterly cold day in winter our dog team halted before a cabin. We had been hailed as we were pa.s.sing by the man of the house. He gave us a hearty hand shake and invitation to have "a drop o' tea and a bit to eat," adding, "you'd never ha' been pa.s.sin' without stoppin' for a cup o' tea to warm you up, whatever." It was early, and we had intended to stop farther on to boil our kettle in the edge of the woods with as little loss of time as possible, but there was no getting away from the hospitality of the liveyere.

There were three of us, and we were as hungry as bears, for there is nothing like snowshoe traveling in thirty and forty degrees below zero weather to give one an appet.i.te. As we entered we sniffed a delicious odor of roasting meat, and that one sniff made us glad we had stopped, and made us equally certain we had never before in our lives been so hungry for a good meal. For days we had been subsisting on hardtack and jerked venison, two articles of food that will not freeze for they contain no moisture, and tea; or, when we stopped at a cabin, on bread and tea. The man's wife was already placing plates, cups and saucers on the bare table for us, and two little boys were helping with hungry eagerness.

"Hang your adikeys on the pegs there and get warmed up," our host invited. "Dinner's a'most ready. 'Tis a wonderful frosty day to be cruisin'."

We did as he directed, and then seated ourselves on chests that he pulled forward for seats. He had many questions to ask concerning the folk to the northward, their health and their luck at the winter's trapping, until, presently, the woman brought forth from the oven and placed upon the table a pan of deliciously browned, smoking meat.

"Set in! Set in!" beamed our host. "'Tis fine you comes today and not yesterday," adding as we drew up to the table: "All we'd been havin'

to give you yesterday and all th' winter, were bread and tea. Game's been wonderful scarce, and this is the first bit o' meat we has th'

whole winter, barrin' a pa'tridge or two in November. But this marnin'

I finds a lynx in one o' my traps, and a fine prime skin he has. I'll show un to you after we eats, though he's on the dryin' board and you can't see the fur of he."

We bowed our heads while the host asked the blessing. The Labradorman rarely omits the blessing, and often the meal is closed with a final thanks, for men of the wilderness live near to G.o.d. He is very near to them and they reverence Him.

"Help yourself, sir! Help yourself!"

Each of us helped himself sparingly to the cat meat. There was bread, but no b.u.t.ter, and there was hot tea with black mola.s.ses for sweetening.

"Take more o' th' meat now! Help yourselves! Don't be afraid of un,"

our hospitable host urged, and we did help ourselves again, for it was good.

Whenever we pa.s.sed within hailing distance of a cabin, we had to stop for a "cup o' hot tea, whatever." Otherwise the people would have felt sorely hurt. We seldom found more elaborate meals than bread, tea and mola.s.ses, rarely b.u.t.ter, and of course never any vegetables.

We soon discovered that we could not pay the head of the family for our entertainment, but where there were children we left money with the mother with which to buy something for the little ones, which doubtless would be clothing or provisions for the family. If there were no children we left the money on the table or somewhere where it surely would be discovered after our departure.

I remember one of this fine breed of men well. I met him on this journey, and he once drove dog team for me--Uncle Willie Wolfrey.

Doctor Grenfell says of him:

"Uncle Willie isn't a scholar, a social light, or a capitalist magnate, but all the same ten minutes' visit to Uncle Willie Wolfrey is worth five dollars of any man's investment."

It requires a lot of physical energy for any man to tramp the trails day after day through a frigid, snow-covered wilderness, and months of it at a stretch. It is a big job for a young and hearty man, and a tremendous one for a man of Uncle Willie's years. And it is a man's job, too, to handle a boat in all weather, in calm and in gale, in clear and in fog, sixteen to twenty hours a day, and the fisherman's day is seldom shorter than that. The fish must be caught when they are there to be caught, and they must be split and salted the day they are caught, and then there's the work of spreading them on the "flakes,"

and turning them, and piling and covering them when rain threatens.

A cataract began to form on Uncle Willie's eyes, and every day he could see just a little less plainly than the day before. The prospects were that he would soon be blind, and without his eyesight he could neither hunt nor fish.

But with his growing age and misfortune Uncle Willie was never a whit less cheerful. He had to earn his living and he kept at his work.

"'Tis the way of the Lard," said he. "He's blessed me with fine health all my life, and kept the house warm, and we've always had a bit to eat, whatever. The Lard has been wonderful good to us, and I'll never be complainin'."

It was never Uncle Willie's way to complain about hard luck. He always did his best, and somehow, no matter how hard a pinch in which he found himself, it always came out right in the end.

Finally Uncle Willie's eyesight became so poor that it was difficult for him to see sufficiently to get around, and one day last summer (1921) he stepped off his fish stage where he was at work, and the fall broke his thigh. This happened at the very beginning of the fis.h.i.+ng season, and put an end to the summer's fis.h.i.+ng for Uncle Willie, and, of course, to all hope of hunting and trapping during last winter.

Then Doctor Grenfell happened along with his brave old hospital s.h.i.+p _Strathcona_. Dr. Grenfell has a way of happening along just when people are desperately in need of him. With Dr. Grenfell was Dr.

Morlan, a skillful and well-known eye and throat specialist from Chicago. Dr. Morlan was spending his holiday with Dr. Grenfell, helping heal the sick down on The Labrador, giving free his services and his great skill.

Dr. Grenfell set and dressed Uncle Willie Wolfrey's broken thigh. Dr.

Morlan was to remain but a few days. If he were to help Uncle Willie's eyes there could be no time given for a recovery from the operation on the thigh. Uncle Willie was game for it.

They had settled Uncle Willie comfortably at Indian Harbor Hospital, and immediately the thigh was set Dr. Morlan operated upon one of the eyes. The operation was successful, and when the freeze-up came with the beginning of winter, Uncle Willie, hobbling about on crutches and with one good eye was home again in his cabin.

Uncle Willie lives in a lonely place, and for many miles north and south he has but one neighbor. The outlook for the winter was dismal indeed. His flour barrel was empty. He had no money.

But that stout old heart could not be discouraged or subdued. Uncle Willie was as full of grit as ever he was in his life. He was still a fountain of cheery optimism and hope. He could see with one eye now, and out of that eye the world looked like a pretty good place in which to live, and he was decided to make the best of it.

Dr. Grenfell, pa.s.sing down the coast, called in to see the crippled old fisherman and hunter, and in commenting on that visit he said:

"There are certain men it always does one good to meet. Uncle Willie is a channel of blessing. His sincerity and faith do one good. There is always a merry glint in his eye. Even with one eye out, and his crutches on, and his prospect of hunger, Uncle Willie was just the same."

Dr. Grenfell left some money, donated by the Doctor's friends, and made other provisions for the comfort of Uncle Willie Wolfrey during the winter. If all goes well he will be at his fis.h.i.+ng again, when the ice clears away; and the snows of another winter will see him again on his trapping path setting traps for martens and foxes. And with his rifle and one good eye, who knows but he may knock over a silver fox or a bear or two?

Good luck to Uncle Willie Wolfrey and his spirit, which cannot be downed.