Boon Island - Kenneth Roberts [89]
Captain Dean, examining his own legs, said there was no help for it: the boots would have to go.
"It's the wet," he said, "and the cold that comes with this northwest wind. The only good thing about a northwest wind is that there's a calm after it stops blowingif it ever does."
He raised his voice to make it heard above the rumble and smashing of the breakers.
"Sharpen your knives, everyone," he said. "You'll find whetstones under you. That'll remind you there's always something good to be said about anything or anyone. There'll never be any shortage of rocks on this island; none of ice, either.
"Here's what you'll have to doand save the stitching. We'll need it to tie bandages." He severed the top stitch of the seam that runs down the inner part of the leg, then picked out the remaining thread as far down as the ankle. From the ankle he cut straight down through the leather to the edge of the sole. From that cut he slid his knife blade around the heel, pressing the blade against the sole. He did the same to the forward part; then folded the whole boot outward from his leg and foot.
When he rolled up his long underwear, both foot and leg were shocking sights. The leg, puffed and blistered,
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had open sores where his underwear and wet breeches had rubbed. The toes were pallid. Some of the toenails came away when the boot was folded over; but the toes didn't bleed: they just stayed that queer grayish white.
The captain drew a sharp breath. "You'll have to expect a little pain at first," he said, "but that's only the blood coming back into your legs."
The captain studied those nailless toes.
Then he said slowly, "Before any of the rest of you start cutting off your boots, you'd better go out for canvas. We'll have to make something to put on our feet so we can walk."
"Walk with feet like that one of yours!" Langman cried.
"I don't have to answer that, do I?" Captain Dean asked. "We've got to walk. More cheese might come ashore. We must have more oakum. We must move out from this wet shelter into a tent. We must have a place where we can pick oakum under cover. We can't make oakum or raise a tent unless we go outside. To do that we'll have to wash our legs in something warm that'll clean 'em."
Langman groaned. "Something warm! Where'll you find anything warm around here? Even if you found something, what would you put it in?"
"I've watched everyone urinating about ten times a day, haven't I?" Captain Dean asked. "I hated to see it wasted, but I couldn't give up my powder horn if there was a chance of getting a fire from the powder. Well, the powder's as wet today as it was when we were wrecked, and I've carried it next to my skin day and night. So now I'll put the powder in a canvas bag. We'll use the horn
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for the warm stuff you think we haven't got. Now take White and Miles with you and go for that oakum. And remember: don't urinate till I tell you to."
He sawed delicately with his knife-blade at the stitches in his other boot top, and picked out the thread as carefully as though his life depended upon itand perhaps it did.
I was shocked and frightened by that glimpse of the captain's leg and foot, and by the stench that had come from it. I was sure my own feet and legs were no different; and while it seemed impossible to walk at all on feet so painful, I not only knew that I could do it, but I was filled with a frenzy to pick the oakum necessary to protect our legs and feet.
Those who have never picked oakumand few people do it except sailors when there's nothing else to be done on shipboard, or those who live in prisons or poorhousesfind it tedious, hard on the hands and on the nerves, to separate those stiff strands of fiber that make up a rope: then, with finger-twistings and knife-points, to fluff out each strand so that it becomes again a flattened mat