He got more and more feverish. So Mrs. Shedd got the
Assyrian boys to take out the baggage and she made up a bed for him on
the floor of the cart.
The English doctor was out with the cavalry who were holding back and
dispersing the Turkish force.
Then a British officer came and said: "We are moving the camp forward
under the protection of the mountains."
It was late afternoon. The cart moved forward into the gathering
darkness. Mrs. Shedd crouched beside her husband on the floor of the
cart attending to him, expecting the outriders to tell her when they
came to the British Camp.
For hours the cart rolled and jolted over the rough mountain roads. At
last it stopped, it was so dark they could not see the road. They were
in a gully and could not go forward.
"Where is the British camp?" asked Mrs. Shedd.
"We passed it miles back on the road," was the reply.
It was a terrible blow: the doctor, the medicines, the comfort, the
nursing that would have helped Dr. Shedd were all miles away and he
was so ill that it was impossible to drive him back over that rough
mountain track in the inky darkness of the night.
There was nothing to do but just stay where they were, send a
messenger to the camp for the doctor, and wait for the morning.
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