The Amîr reached out his Royal hand and boxed his ear. Allah Nûr was conducted back to the Hospital. That afternoon, my throat being better, I attended the military Durbar. His Highness discussed with me the case of Allah Nûr, advising amputation.
“It would appear wise, however,” said he, “considering the man’s condition of weakness, to postpone the operation for a few days, feeding him meanwhile on strong soups and administering ‘Portwein.’”
I need not say that I entirely concurred.
His Highness then spoke of other matters. He explained why he walked so little and was carried from place to place in his palanquin. It was on account of the pain he suffered from chronic sciatica. The horses reserved for his riding were chosen for their steadiness, and he had ordered them to be led about the streets after dark to cure them of any habit they might have of shying. In moving, even from one chair to another, he found the assistance of a walking-stick necessary. He spoke also very kindly to me concerning my professional work, and finally asked me to visit an old friend of his who was sick—the Hadji Jan Mahomed.
Things were going well with me evidently, for directly the Durbar was over the Commander-in-Chief in Turkestan came up to speak to me and we walked out of the Palace gardens hand-in-hand:—I hate walking hand-in-hand with a man. He was very chatty, and asked me to visit a Colonel of his who was ill. The name of the Turkestan Commander-in-Chief was Gholam Hydar, but he was a man of a much smaller frame than his namesake the Commander-in-Chief in Kabul. Also he bore a most startling resemblance to Dr. Lauder Brunton, F.R.S., the London Physician. No two brothers could be more alike. They were the same build. The very beard and moustache were trimmed in the same fashion. The only difference I could see was that Dr. Brunton is fair and the Suparsalar Gholam Hydar Khan was dark. I had, therefore, from the beginning a pre-disposition in favour of Gholam Hydar on account of his resemblance to my former teacher.
The Operation on Allah Nûr.
The next morning on arriving at the Hospital I found Allah Nûr only too ready to have his arm amputated. While he had been away from the Hospital the flies in that hot climate had found access to the sore, and there were maggots squirming about in the joint. It was very horrible. There was no postponing the operation now.
We had no operating table, and Allah Nûr was laid on a mound of earth in the shade of a tree in the garden. I arranged the instruments near and took off my turban lest it should obstruct my view at a critical moment. I put the man under chloroform, screwed up the tourniquet, and ordered the Armenian to hold the arm steady. There were two or three sweeping cuts, the grate of the saw, and the arm was off midway between shoulder and elbow.
The Afghans in the Hospital made an interested ring of spectators. One of the Hindustanis, however, nearly fainted, and the Armenian said:
“Sir, I very glad you quick, my head is go round and round, and my eye is like I drink a bottle of brandy and a bottle of rum mixed—all is blood!” I did not ask him to help in an operation again.