Whether or not the bitter medicine mingled with the warm and honeyed milk partook of the nature of an opiate or not, Harry had no means of ascertaining, but for nearly three days he did little else but sleep—and perspire during the intervals of taking nourishment.
He was aware, however, that the great kind-hearted king was almost constantly in the tent, and that he moved about on tiptoe, and talked in whispers, never failing to lift his finger and shake it at any one who entered.
Sometimes an amazon came in and looked at Harry, then smiled a grim smile and retired, and once a terrible-looking old man with triangular teeth like Walda’s put in an appearance. He had a fowl in his arm, which after many strange antics—that showed he was working a fetish—he slew. He then dipped his finger in the blood and smeared Harry’s forehead.
After this another fowl was brought to him, and he then made motions with his hand and arm over the patient, of a semi-mesmeric kind, or as if he were drawing something invisible towards the fowl in his arms. The latter was immediately after chased out of the tent, and from the noise out of doors it was evidently being hunted out of the enclosure entirely.
Next morning a cocoanut shell full of pure warm blood was handed to him; this was not unpleasant to drink, and was repeated three times a day, and day after day for a week. (The blood-cure is not unknown in Europe, but I believe some of the African tribes used it ages and ages ago.—G.S.)
Every hour now, almost, Harry felt himself getting stronger. He was soon able to sit up for hours, then the king exhibited all the exuberant joy of a child of six. With his own hands he brought his patient a small dish of delightfully curried chicken and rice, and as Harry ate it King Googagoo laughed till his black, fat sides shook again.
With returning health came returning hope and happiness, and when, leaning on the king’s arm, Harry made his first venture out of doors it seemed for all the world like going into a new world. Everything was so inexpressibly bright and lovely, the drooping palm trees, the banana groves the greenest of the green, the splendid flowers that grew everywhere, the bright-plumaged birds, the cloudless sky, the blue and placid lake, and the purple hills on the far horizon. It was all like a beautiful dream, it was all a scene of enchantment, and to breathe the balmy air was verily life itself.
How grateful he felt to this simple-minded king; ah! yes, and how grateful to the Great Father above, who had spared his life, and brought him safely through countless dangers.
Harry soon found the air was almost too strong for him, it flushed his cheeks and quickened his breathing, so he retired again, and was almost immediately after asleep on his lion-skin couch.
Next evening a hammock was slung for him near the fire, and lying there he found himself strong enough to entertain the king with a little music on the concertina, which “through thick and thin” Raggy had kept possession of.