The Walla Walla Wooden Leg Incident

A block of one and one-half story pine shanties on the main street blazed up like kindling wood. The fire was just below my hotel, so we were all ready to vacate, which was, happily, unnecessary. But that was the most remarkable fire I have seen. I was struck dumb by the apparition of an old-time hand engine. There was a steamer, too, but the fire was nearly burned out before it went to work. The crowd was curious, filled with cowboys, Indians, army officers, farmers, gamblers, and soldiers. One spick and span officer tried to ascend the roof of a burning house; every time he went ahead two feet he slipped back three, until finally he threw the water wildly before him, slipped, and came rolling down on the shed, followed by a cascade of water and an empty bucket. He repeated this about a dozen times. Finally, a man was carried across the street from the flames which were consuming his little shop. He writhed convulsively in the arms of the firemen and uttered piercing shrieks. People rushed toward him, bitten with the morbid desire to see some ghastly spectacle. He was laid down on the grass, sobbing and praying: 'Oh, me leg, me leg! God help me, what shall I do?' We could see that one trouser leg hung empty. 'He has lost his leg,' said one. 'Great Heaven, send for a doctor!' Suddenly a man pierced the crowd, bearing a strange object in his hands. The sobs ceased. But instead of an agonizing scene, we heard a prolonged 'Whoo-oo-p!' The sufferer rose to his feet, executed a short war dance of triumph, and administered a sound kick to a small boy. Need I say that the lost leg was of wood!