678 THE FRIENDLY ARCTIC 



Finally, I felt sure that in four or five days I should be able to leave 

 Herschel Island, so I sent Storkerson off westward to have every- 

 thing ready. 



But a few hours after he had gone I was taken with violent chills 

 and a fever that was over 105°, the first stage of pneumonia. It 

 was only now that every one began to realize the seriousness of 

 the situation. This came about especially through the illness of 

 Constable Lamont, who was taken with a disease which had much 

 more clearly marked the orthodox symptoms of typhoid than had 

 been true in my case. It was realized now that I had just been 

 through typhoid, which brought great horror to every one when 

 they thought of the things they had allowed me to eat. During the 

 period of the highest fever I had been without appetite, but as soon 

 as the fever began to drop to 100° I had begun to eat steaks and 

 fried potatoes and whatever else the Police were having for their 

 meals. An hour before my sudden relapse I had eaten a large meal 

 of macaroni and cheese and it was believed that this had brought 

 on the relapse. Those who had then protested now felt that the 

 relapse served me right, while even the others were constrained to 

 admit that nothing else could have been expected to befall a sick 

 man who ate macaroni and cheese. 



Conditions of severe illness in the Far North are different from 

 those of ordinary civilized surroundings, even in an outpost of 

 civilization such as Herschel Island, and may therefore have inter- 

 est justifying description. My treatment had been in many ways 

 the opposite of the orthodox way with typhoid. They had not 

 realized that I had typhoid and I had thus so far mercifully es- 

 caped the orthodox treatment of ten years ago, which was still in 

 vogue when the medical books of Herschel Island were written. 

 But Constable Lamont's case was handled according to these anti- 

 quated proprieties. He became steadily worse and just when I 

 was lowest with pneumonia he died in his room across the hall. 



Some one now started the idea that this might be typhus. The 

 medical books of the island had been hunted up and read by every 

 one except me, for, although I had more medical knowledge than 

 the rest, it was considered that an invalid must not be allowed to 

 read about diseases for fear of some dreadful deteriorating effect 

 upon him. One medical book did get into my hands. It was one 

 of a three-volume set and contained treatments, where the other 

 volumes were devoted to symptoms. I wanted to read about the 

 symptoms to be able to decide what my treatment ought to be, 

 but those volumes were carefully kept away from me. 



