To Herat and Cabul: A Story of the First Afghan War

by G. A. Henty

The track they were following sometimes disappeared altogether, and Angus often congratulated himself upon having the young chief with him, for the latter had twice before crossed the mountains, and was able to tell him which line to take. The day's journey varied much in length, being from fifteen to twenty-five miles, according as they found a suitable halting-place. They always camped where there was water, emptying the skins and filling them afresh as often as possible. At times the ground was covered with snow. This they thawed in a pot over a fire of brushwood, of which they were careful to gather some at every opportunity on the day's march.

The chief and Angus occupied the little tent, while Azim slept with the two soldiers in a shelter composed of blankets. Every day there was a visible improvement in the state of the wounded man; the cool air acted as a tonic to his system. The first two or three days his arm pained him a good deal, though he had never once complained of it. It was kept bound to his side, and by means of splints and bandages the shoulder was held in its natural position; more than this Angus had not attempted. He believed that the shoulder was broken, but even of this he was not sure, and could only hope that the bone would knit together itself. One day, however, in reply to his questions the Afghan admitted that he felt a burning pain just over the left shoulder, and feeling, Angus perceived a hard substance apparently but a short distance under the skin.

"There is no doubt that this is the ball," he said. "A surgeon would cut down upon it, and get it out easily enough."

"Then why do you not do it? you seem very skilful."

"I have had no practice," he said. "My father was a trader of Tabriz. He was a good man and very much respected. The poor often came to him in cases of accidents, and I have many a time seen him bandage broken limbs, that is why I was able to do it; but of bullet wounds I know nothing."

"Take my dagger and cut down to it at once; the pain of a cut is nothing. Cut fearlessly and deeply, so that you can take hold of the ball with your fingers."

After some hesitation Angus agreed to do so, for, by the pain it was causing, the bullet might set up inflammation.

"It is a mere nothing," the Afghan said. "I have frequently cut out bullets from my tribesmen."

The chief's dagger was as keen as a razor, and seeing that his patient really wished it, Angus performed the operation. He had to cut three times before he could manage to get hold of the bullet. The Afghan himself did not once flinch.

"That is well," he said, when the ball was extracted. "Now, bring the edges together again, put a piece of wet rag over them, and then tie a bandage tightly round me; by the end of a week there will be nothing but a scar remaining."