VICTORIA NYANZA 135 



In the feeble rays of the lantern I examined the boy 

 who asked me tremulously if he was bleeding much. 

 When I assured him not so much as one drop, his feel- 

 ing of relief brought his lusty yelling to a low moaning. 

 He was further reassured when I opened my kit and 

 prepared to give his wound treatment, for the native 

 African has a childlike faith in the white man's medicine. 



Now my knowledge of medicine is hmited, but what 

 I lack in therapeutical skill I beheve is made up for 

 by a quite extensive knowledge of the black man's 

 ways and psychology, which prompted a course of 

 treatment wliich I carefully explained to my native 

 chnic at each step. 



First, with a small lance I opened the place where 

 he had been bitten and rubbed into the incision several 

 crystals of potassium permanganate. Next I swabbed 

 the whole surface of the wound with a ten-per-cent 

 solution of iodine. 



My surgical ministrations performed, I produced 

 from the chest two big black pills, technically known 

 as CC, or army pills, explaining to my patient that it 

 was these pellets that got our boys out of the trenches. 

 I added that they were potent for the cure of prac- 

 tically all ills to which flesh is prone, with especial 

 reference to the sting of scorpions. When he had 

 gulped these down, I brought out two five-grain aspirin 

 tablets, saying that in the white man's country, they 

 were used for everything ranging from faUing dandruff 

 to fallen arches. He was duly impressed. By this 

 time quiet had been restored, and, after inspecting the 

 dead scorpion, I went back to bed. 



Next morning, the scorpion's victim was apparently 

 as good as new and quite happy. After examining the 



