Troubled by her promise to Sam, Julie forgot about going home. She mushed out of Nome on trails that took her west along the ice-packed Bering Sea. The coastline trails were easy to follow, and they often moved off the banks onto the frozen sea itself. This helped drivers avoid heavily drifted snow and hidden obstacles.
Out on the ice, Julie had new concerns to keep her mind on. The wind and pressure often caused the ice to form what the natives called “spears.” These ice needles jutted upward from the frozen trail and could pierce the padding of a dog’s feet. Whenever spears were evident, Julie took time out to put coverings on the paws of each of her dogs. So far, they’d avoided injury.
As the dimly lit skies gave way to sunlight, Julie pushed back her parka hood. She could tell by the dogs’ breath that the temperature had risen. A good driver always paid attention to the degree of whiteness that showed in a team’s exhaled breath. Little things like that often saved a driver’s life, and Julie, ever mindful of her near-death from the blizzard, paid special attention to such details.
The ice and snow stretched for miles, and the glare of reflecting sunlight caused Julie to shelter her eyes by replacing her hood.
The team moved at a nice trot, and Julie felt exhilarated as she made her way down the coastline. The hills and mountains in the distance, however, reminded her of the dangers that came with isolation. One mistake could be her last.
Thinking about mistakes, Julie considered Sam’s marriage proposal. “Lord,” she prayed, “I don’t know what to do about Sam. He says he loves me, but I don’t know if I love him. I suppose I shouldn’t be so worried about it—after all, Sam is a Christian.”
The miles passed in a blur as Julie continued, “I don’t know what to do! My job as a public health nurse takes me out on the trail for weeks, even months at a time. How can I be a good wife to a man while I’m hundreds of miles away inoculating children and teaching mothers about hygiene? Sam deserves more than a pittance of attention every few weeks. I’m sure a man with his zest for living would expect a great deal more, Father. I know he would, and I’d feel obligated to give it to him and leave my job. Since I can’t do that, it must be wrong for me to accept his proposal.”
That conclusion didn’t last long. Unsettled feelings in Julie’s mind told her that the issue was far from being resolved.
Sam’s never suggested I leave my work as a nurse, she reasoned. Even when he bids me good- bye, he never causes a scene about my work or says that I ought to be safe at home. Maybe Sam is more sympathetic to the needs of the people up here. Maybe Sam would want me to continue working as a public health nurse, even after we were married.
“So the answer must be yes,” Julie said aloud, but again the feeling that the issue wasn’t settled came to haunt her.
“Do I love him?” she asked.
She thought of the way he smiled and the laughter in his brown eyes. The vision of Sam’s muscular shoulders and towering frame came to mind. Julie admitted to herself that she was attracted to Sam as she’d never been to another man. Attraction isn’t love, she reminded herself. But is it part of love?
Julie’s mittened hands twisted at the sled bar. She couldn’t settle on any answers to her many questions.
Please, Lord, I promised him an answer. Please show me whether or not I love him. I must know that before I can answer his proposal because I simply cannot marry a man I do not love.
The daylight hours passed much too quickly. In the distance, Julie saw the flickering light of a lantern hanging on a pole outside a sod igloo. She sighed in relief, eager to rest after only two short stops on the trail.
The village wouldn’t recognize their new public health nurse, but Julie knew she’d be warmly welcomed. She halted the dogs as several Eskimos appeared.
“I’m Nurse Eriksson from Nome,” Julie offered by way of introduction.
“We’re glad to have you,” an older man said as he extended his hand. “We have sickness in our village. It is good you have come.”
“If you will lend me a warm place to work,” Julie said as she reached for her gear, “I’ll be glad to examine your sick.”
The man nodded and pointed to the sod igloo. “You use my house. I have no wife. I will stay with my brother and his family while you work. Come.”
“Thank you,” Julie said as she followed the man. “What should I call you?”
The man turned and smiled, revealing several missing teeth. “Call me Charlie,” he said and showed Julie inside the shack.
Julie was appalled by what greeted her. The igloo was filthy and very small, leaving her to wonder if these conditions were common in the rest of the village. She noticed the small oilcan stove and turned to Charlie.
“Is there fuel for the stove?”
“Sure,” Charlie replied. “I get you nice fire. Plenty warm in here with big fire.”
“I’ll need water, too,” Julie said as she pulled her parka off. It was chilly, but not unbearable, and once she began to clean the room, her body would warm considerably.
“I get you plenty snow, and we melt on big fire. You can have much hot water.”
Charlie seemed so pleased to offer Julie his home that she didn’t want to hurt his feelings by rearranging everything. “Would it be all right,” she began, “if I clean this table so that I can examine the patients?”
“Sure, sure,” Charlie said with his broad, toothless smile. “You have plenty fire, plenty water, and plenty clean. Sure.”
Charlie disappeared out the door, and Julie could hear him talking excitedly to the villagers. He reappeared and within minutes had a nice fire going in the stove as well as several pans of snow melting on top of it.
Julie rolled up the sleeves of her heavy flannel shirt. While nurses in Nome’s hospital wore a recognizable uniform, Julie wore what best suited the climate and elements she would have to combat; warm flannels and wools along with furs and skin pants were of much more benefit to her near the Bering Sea than starched aprons and freshly pressed dresses. She was just pinning up her hair when a young woman burst through the door with her infant child in hand.
“My baby is sick,” she cried as she held the infant up to Julie.
Julie reached for the child. His burning skin told her that he had a dangerously high fever.
“How long has he been sick?” Julie questioned the mother while examining the baby.
“He’s had a bad cold for two days. He breathes so hard I can’t rest for fear he’ll stop breathing,” the little Eskimo woman said as she twisted her hands.
Julie could hear the labored, shallow breathing of the infant. He was perilously close to death. But why? Julie couldn’t find any obvious reason for the baby to be so ill. “I must look in his mouth,” Julie told his mother as she pulled a tongue depressor from her bag. “I won’t hurt him, but he won’t like it.” Julie doubted that the lethargic baby would fight her, but she felt better warning the mother about her actions.
The light was so poor that Julie could scarcely see past the child’s tongue and gums. “I need more light,” she called to Charlie and waited until he brought her a lantern.
“Plenty light for the nurse,” Charlie said and went back to his self-assigned task of melting snow at the stove.
Julie positioned the light to give her a good view into the child’s mouth. She pried the tiny mouth open and gasped. The back of the child’s swollen throat was covered with graywhite patches of dead mucous membrane, the unmistakable calling card of diphtheria. Julie looked up sympathetically at the frantically worried young mother. How could she explain to the woman that her baby would probably die that night?
“Are there any others in the village with this sickness?” Julie asked.
“Yes, there are two other children with sore throats and high fevers,” the woman answered. “Can you make my baby well?”
Julie felt the pain displayed in the woman’s eyes. “No, I’m sorry. Your baby is very sick, and I can’t help him. We’ve waited too long, and I don’t have the medicine I need to help you.”
The woman’s anxious face fell into complete dejection. She grabbed up her baby and began to wail. Charlie came from the stove and asked Julie what was wrong with the baby.
“It’s a white man’s disease called diphtheria,” Julie said as the crying mother rocked back and forth, cradling her dying child. “I need medicine from Nome in order to save the people from getting the disease. The ones who are already sick may not have enough time left for me to get back and help them. Charlie, I’m going to need your help. Do you have a village council?”
“Sure, sure,” Charlie said, repeating what appeared to be his favorite word. “We got plenty people on council.”
“I need you to call them together. This disease is very contagious. That means it spreads quickly. Charlie, we mustn’t let anyone come into the village or leave it. Do you understand? I have to go back to Nome and get the antitoxin.”
“Sure, Charlie understand plenty good,” the old man said with a grave nod. “I keep people here, and nobody else come in.”
“Good,” Julie replied. “Charlie, I need to have the dogs ready to leave in ten minutes. Can you have them ready for me?”
“Sure, but you plenty tired. You need rest to travel,” Charlie answered in a way that reminded Julie of her father.
“Yes, Charlie, I know. But if I don’t get the medicine and get right back to the village, many of your people will die. I have to try.”
“You try then,” Charlie said and patted Julie on the back. “But you don’t take the ice. Big wind blowing off the water is making it soft. It might be gone in the night.”
“Thank you, Charlie. I’ll stick to the land trail,” Julie promised.
After speaking with the council about quarantining the homes of the sick and leaving instructions on how to ease the sufferings of those with the disease, Julie repacked her supplies and readied her sled.
Starting with Dusty, Julie lovingly patted her dogs and checked them for any signs of stiffness or injury. Eager to be back on the trail, the dogs seemed to understand the importance of their mission.
Julie moved her team out and ran alongside the sled for quite a distance. She wanted to ensure that she stayed warm, so she only rode the runners when fatigue threatened her with exhaustion. In record time, she saw the lights of Nome and breathed a prayer of thanksgiving.
Julie pushed the dogs to Dr. Welch’s house. Mindless of the hour, she pounded on the door. Surprisingly, Dr. Welch himself appeared at the door, fully dressed.
“Julie, come inside. What is it?” Dr. Welch questioned as he ushered the girl to a seat by the stove.
“Diphtheria! The Sinuak village has several cases. One will certainly not make it through the night, and the others I doubt I can help either. I came back for antitoxin.”
Dr. Welch looked old beyond his years. Julie worried for his health as he ran a hand through his graying hair and sat down at the kitchen table. “I haven’t got any. At least not enough.”
“How much do you have?” Julie questioned in a worried tone that matched the doctor’s.
“We only have seventy-five thousand units, and I already have cases of diphtheria appearing here in Nome. The two children I was called to care for are dead. I didn’t know then that it was diphtheria, as I couldn’t get a look inside their mouths. However, little Richard Stanley is also sick, and I saw quite well the patches on his throat. It’s diphtheria, all right.”
“What are we to do?” Julie asked as she joined the doctor at the table.
“I don’t know,” the doctor answered bluntly. “It takes thirty thousand units of antitoxin to treat one sick person. I’ve already got at least four who are sick with the disease and hundreds of others who are exposed.”
“To make matters worse,” Lula Welch said as she appeared in her nightgown and robe, “the serum we have on hand is over five years old. We’d hoped that the Public Health Department had sent some with you when you returned from Seattle, but they must have been short on it themselves. We didn’t receive a single unit.”
Julie sat back and took a deep breath. “So we don’t know if the serum on hand is effective?”
“That’s about the whole of it,” Dr. Welch said and put his head in his hands. “We must be prepared to deal with a full-scale epidemic. Diphtheria will only take a matter of days to spread like a flame on dried kindling. The entire peninsula is in danger of epidemic. God help us.”
“Yes, He’s our only hope now,” Julie agreed. “He’s our only hope!”