After luncheon that day, as Carroll and Lazear were in the laboratory attending to their respective work, the conversation turning upon the mosquitoes and their apparent harmlessness, Lazear remarked how one of them had failed to take blood, at which Carroll thought that he might try to feed it, as otherwise it was liable to die before next day (the insect seemed weak and tired); the tube was carefully held first by Lazear and then by Carroll himself, for a considerable length of time, upon his forearm, before the mosquito decided to introduce its proboscis.
This insect was again fed from a yellow fever case at "Las
Animas" Hospital on the twenty-ninth, two days later, Dr.
Carroll being present, though not feeling very well, as it was
afterwards ascertained.
We three left the yellow-fever hospital together that afternoon; I got down from the doherty-wagon where the road forks, going on to the Military Hospital, while Carroll and Lazear continued on their way to Camp Columbia. On the following day, Lazear telephoned to me in the evening, to say that Carroll was down with a chill after a sea bath taken at the beach, a mile and a half from Camp, and that they suspected he had malaria; we therefore made an appointment to examine his blood together the following morning.
When I reached Camp Columbia I found that Carroll had been examining his own blood early that morning, not finding any malarial parasites; he told me he thought he had "caught cold" at the beach: his suffused face, blood-shot eyes and general appearance, in spite of his efforts at gaiety and unconcern, shocked me beyond words. The possibility of his having yellow fever did not occur to him just then; when it did, two days later, he declared he must have caught it at my autopsy room in the Military Hospital, or at "Las Animas" Hospital, where he had been two days before taking sick. Although we insisted that he should go to bed in his quarters, we could only get him to rest upon a lounge, until the afternoon, when he felt too sick and had to take to his bed.
Lazear and I were almost panic-stricken when we realized that Carroll had yellow fever. We searched for all possibilities that might throw the blame for his infection upon any other source than the mosquito which bit him four days before; Lazear, poor fellow, in his desire to exculpate himself, as he related to me the details of Carroll's mosquito experiment, repeatedly mentioned the fact that he himself had been bitten two weeks before without any effect therefrom and finally, what seemed to relieve his mind to some extent, was the thought that Carroll offered himself to feed the mosquito and that he held the tube upon his own arm until the work was consummated.
I have mentioned before that, as Lazear and I, vaguely hoping to find malarial parasites in Carroll's blood, sat looking into our microscopes that morning, the idea that the mosquito was what brought him down gradually took hold of our minds, but as our colleague had been exposed to infection in other ways, by visiting the yellow fever hospital "Las Animas," as well as the infected city of Havana, it was necessary to subject that same mosquito to another test and hence the inoculation of Private Dean, which is described in the opening chapter of this history.
TERMINATION OF THE FIRST SERIES OF MOSQUITO EXPERIMENTS.
DEATH OF LAZEAR.
The month of September, 1900, was fraught with worry and anxiety: what with Carroll's and Private Dean's attacks of yellow fever and Major Reed's inability to return, Lazear and I were well-nigh on the verge of distraction. Private Dean was not married, but Carroll's wife and children, a thousand miles away, awaited in the greatest anguish the daily cablegram which told them the condition of the husband and father, who was fighting for life, sometimes the victim of the wildest delirium caused by consuming fever, at others almost about to collapse, until one day, the worst of the disease being over, the wires must have thrilled at our announcement, "Carroll out of danger."
Fortunately both he and Dean made an uninterrupted recovery, but we were still to undergo the severest trial, a sorrow compared to which the fearful days of Carroll's sickness lose all importance and dwindle almost into insignificance.