A Thousand Miles in a Machilla 



man (or woman) to cure them. I was consequently 

 house-surgeon and physician, and A the con- 

 sulting authority. Fortunately, only simple remedies 

 are as a rule required, and as a doctor is rarely 

 available one has to do one's best with what know- 

 ledge and experience one possesses; at the same 

 time, it is surprising how quickly a traveller acquires 

 a practical knowledge of rough-and-ready surgery. 

 Natives have a quaint fashion of stating their ail- 

 ments. '* Hard stomach " was a very usual com- 

 plaint, for which Epsom salts or a '* Cockle " or two 

 was an unfailing remedy; diarrhoea was fairly preva- 

 lent, as also dysentery, but these complaints were 

 quickly amenable to chlorodyne and opium pills. 

 Villagers would often come to me for treatment. 

 At Dedza a sick baby suffering from bronchitis was 

 brought in, and on another occasion a boy with 

 a severe attack of malaria. A travelling native 

 attacked with dysentery came to ask for remedies. 

 Sprains, cuts, bruises, and sores were frequent; 

 for these there is nothing to equal strong perman- 

 ganate of potash in hot water. The cures it will 

 effect are wonderful; it seems to draw out poison 

 and reduce inflammation. A log of wood fell one 

 day on the foot of one of my machilla boys, who 

 came to me crying with the pain; hot fomentations 

 soon put him right, and though he was unable to 

 carry me for a few days, he was quite able to limp 

 along the road the following morning. A man with 

 a nasty punctured wound in his foot was so con- 

 tented with the treatment that he insisted on coming 

 to show me his foot daily long after it was well, 



78 



