With Kitchener in the Soudan: A Story of Atbara and Omdurman

by G. A. Henty

"'It is, you see, Saleh, just as I had hoped. I felt sure that it could not have gone in far; as, in that case, you could never have walked twenty miles, from the battlefield, to the point where you met me. Now, if I had a proper instrument, I might be able to extract the bullet. I might hurt you in doing so, but if I could get it out, you would recover speedily; while if it remains where it is, the wound may inflame, and you will die.'

"'I am not afraid of pain, Mudil.'

"I could touch the ball with my finger, but beyond feeling that the flesh in which it was embedded was not solid to the touch, I could do nothing towards getting the ball out. I dared not try to enlarge the wound, so as to get two fingers in. After thinking the matter over in every way, I decided that the only chance was to make a tool from the ramrod. I heated this again and again, flattening it with the pistol barrel, till it was not more than a tenth of an inch thick; then I cut, from the centre, a strip about a quarter of an inch wide. I then rubbed down the edges of the strip on a stone, till they were perfectly smooth, and bent the end into a curve. I again heated it to a dull red, and plunged it into water to harden it, and finally rubbed it with a little oil. It was late in the evening before I was satisfied with my work.

"'Now, Saleh,' I said, 'I am going to try if this will do. If I had one of the tools I have seen the white hakims use, I am sure I could get the ball out easily enough; but I think I can succeed with this. If I cannot, I must make another like it, so as to put one down each side of the bullet. You see, this curve makes a sort of hook. The difficulty is to get it under the bullet.'

"'I understand,' he said. 'Do not mind hurting me. I have seen men die of bullets, even after the wound seemed to heal. I know it is better to try and get it out.'

"It was a difficult job. Pressing back the flesh with my finger, I succeeded, at last, in getting the hook under the bullet. This I held firmly against it, and to my delight felt, as I raised finger and hook together, that the bullet was coming. A few seconds later, I held it triumphantly between my fingers.

"'There, Saleh, there is your enemy. I think, now, that if there is no inflammation, it will not be long before you are well and strong again.'

"'Truly, it is wonderful!' the man said, gratefully. 'I have heard of hakims who are able to draw bullets from wounds, but I have never seen it done before.'

"If Saleh had been a white man, I should still have felt doubtful as to his recovery; but I was perfectly confident that a wound of that sort would heal well, in an Arab, especially as it would be kept cool and clean. Hard exercise, life in the open air, entire absence of stimulating liquors, and only very occasionally, if ever, meat diet, render them almost insensible to wounds that would paralyse a white. Our surgeons had been astonished at the rapidity with which the wounded prisoners recovered.

"Saleh's wife had stood by, as if carved in stone, while I performed the operation; but when I produced the bullet, she burst into tears, and poured blessings on my head.