"So far the wound, which I examined when the woman poured in what I suppose was a styptic, looked healthy and but little inflamed. Of course, a skilled surgeon would have probed it and endeavoured to extract the ball, which had not gone through. The Soudanese were armed only with old muskets, and it was possible that the ball had not penetrated far; for if, as he had told me, he was some distance from the square when he was hit, the bullet was probably spent.
"I told the woman so, and asked her if she had any objection to my endeavouring to find it. She looked surprised.
"'Are you, then, a hakim?'
"'No, but I have been at Khartoum, and have seen how the white hakims find which way a bullet has gone. They are sometimes able to get it out. At any rate, I should not hurt him; and if, as is likely, the ball has not gone in very far--for had it done so, he would probably have died before he got home--I might draw it out.'
"'You can try,' she said. 'You have saved his life, and it is yours.'
"'Bring me the pistol that your husband had, in his belt.'
"She brought it to me. I took out the ramrod.
"'Now,' I said, 'it is most important that this should be clean; therefore, heat it in the fire so that it is red hot, and then drop it into cold water.'
"When this had been done, I took a handful of sand, and polished the rod till it shone, and afterwards wiped it carefully with a cloth. Then I inserted it in the wound, very gently. It had entered but an inch and a half when it struck something hard, which could only be the bullet. It was as I had hoped, the ball had been almost spent, when it struck him.
"Saleh was awake now, and had at once consented to my suggestion, having come to have implicit faith in me.