That was not all.

Uncle Bill had slipped over until he could reach a billet of wood beside his bunk.

He struck at Bull's head with it, but the stick was brushed out of his palsied fingers with a single gesture, and, while Uncle Bill groaned with fury and impotence, Bull continued the task of preparing him for bed.

He straightened the old body of the terrible Campbell; he heated water in the tub and washed away stains and dirt; he took off the stained bandages and replaced them with clean ones.
His cousins helped in the latter part of this work.

Weakness had reduced Uncle Bill to speechlessness.