The Dash for Khartoum: A Tale of the Nile Expedition

by G. A. Henty

"I suppose the water didn't boil," he said to himself. "No wonder the poor little beggar cannot eat that stuff. I should think the Liebig would be the best for her, at any rate better than this stuff. I will get a tin or two from Amina, or rather she had better get it; I don't want to be always asking for things."

He had noticed where he had thrown the little pot the evening before, brought it to the woman, and then pointing to the sheik's tent said, "You fetch."

The woman understood and went off, and presently returned with two of the pots. Boiling water was required. This is not an item to be found in an Arab tent. Edgar therefore boiled some in his own tin over the fire in front of the sheik's tent, and showed the woman how much of the paste was to be used and how much water. When this was made he asked her for milk; this also he boiled and made some arrow-root, and told the woman to give that and the Liebig alternately every three or four hours. The benefit the child had received had created a most favourable impression towards Edgar in the community, and several of them came round him as he left the tent to ask for medicine. Edgar was sorely puzzled, and determined that if he could do no good he would certainly do no harm. He thought it likely that most of the illnesses were imaginary, "For why," he said to himself as he looked at three of them who were all placing their hands on their stomachs and twisting about to show that they were suffering great pain, "should they be all bad together?" There was in the chest a large bottle of pills marked "blue-pills," and of these he gave two to each applicant.

One case of those who applied was of a very different character. It was a boy some fifteen years old. He crawled up on his hands and knees, and sitting down took off some bandages and showed him his leg. It was terribly inflamed from the instep up to the knee, with a great sloughing wound that showed the bone for two or three inches. It was evidently the result of a serious graze, perhaps caused by falling on to a sharp rock. Had it been attended to at first it would have been trifling, but doubtless the boy thought nothing of it and had continued to get about as usual. The sand and dirt had got into the wound, inflammation had set in, and the leg was now in a very serious state.

Edgar felt a little more certain of his ground this time, for he remembered that one of the fellows at River-Smith's house had had a bad leg after a severe kick on the shin at football, and he knew what had been done for it. The lad's father, who was one of the elderly men who had remained in camp, had accompanied him. Edgar told him that, in the first place, he wanted a good deal of water made hot. The chest contained a half-gallon bottle of carbolic acid, and searching among the smaller bottles Edgar found one containing caustic. When the lad's father returned with the hot water, Edgar bathed the wound for a long time; then he poured a little of the acid into a calabash of cold water, dipped a piece of cotton cloth into it, folded it several times, and laid it on the wound, then wrapped another cloth soaked in water round and round the limb, and explained as well as he could to the father that as often as the bandage became dry the one must be dipped in the calabash with the lotion, the other in water, and applied again. For two or three days this treatment was continued, and then Edgar burned the unhealthy surfaces with caustic, continuing the carbolic poultices.

In a week the inflammation had greatly abated, and the sore assumed a healthy aspect. The process of healing would in England have been a long and tedious work, but in the dry air of the desert it healed with a rapidity that surprised Edgar, and in a fortnight the boy was able to walk again. The girl too had gained strength rapidly, and Edgar was regarded in the encampment as a Hakim of extraordinary skill; and even the children who had at first shouted Kaffir after him, and thrown stones at him whenever they could do so unobserved, now regarded him with something like awe, while the friends of the boy and girl showed him many little kindnesses, often giving him a bowl of camels' milk, a handful of dates, or a freshly-baked cake of meal. With one of the negro slaves he got on very well. He could not be persuaded to continue to work with the energy which he had displayed the first afternoon, but he seconded Edgar's efforts fairly, and his merry talk and laughter, although he could understand but a small portion of what he said, cheered Edgar at his toil.

The other negro remained sullen and hostile. For some days after his encounter with Edgar his face was so swollen up that he was scarcely able to see. He would have been compelled to work as usual, for humanity is not a characteristic of the Arabs; but Edgar told the sheik's wife that if the man was forced to work at present he would be very ill, and that he must for a time remain quiet and apply bandages soaked in hot water to his face. Under this treatment the swelling gradually abated, but the nose did not resume its normal shape, the bridge having been broken by Edgar's blow. Any presents that the latter received in the way of milk or other articles of food he shared with the negroes, the allowance of food served out being very scanty and of the coarsest description.

"Kaffirs are dogs," the sheik said to his wife as he one day saw Edgar dividing some milk and dates with the others; "but there is good in them. That Muley," for so they had named Edgar, "divides all that is given him with the others, even giving Hamish a share. I could understand his giving it to the other, so that he might do some of his work for him, but not to Hamish, who I can see has not forgiven him that blow."

"I don't think the other does his work for him," Amina said. "He works for me of a morning and then goes into the fields; and when I watch them to see that they are doing their work it seems to me that he does more than any of them."

"He does," the sheik agreed; "he is a willing slave. I am glad I did not give him up to the Mahdi. Kaffir as he is, I think he brings good luck to the village. If he would change his religion and follow the Prophet I would adopt him as my son, seeing that you have only girls."