Tl8 OPHTHALMIA. — NATIVE DOCTORS. 



is the breath out of the body when the unfortunate patient 

 is hurried away to be buried. An ant-eater's hole is often 

 selected, in order to save the trouble of digging a grave. 

 On two occasions while I was there this hasty burial 

 was followed by the return home of the men, who had 

 been buried alive, to their affrighted relatives. They 

 had recovered while in their graves from prolonged 

 swoons. 



In ophthalmia the doctors cup on the temples, and apply 

 to the eyes the pungent smoke of certain roots, the patient 

 at the same time taking strong draughts of it up his 

 nostrils. We found the solution of nitrate of silver, two 

 or three grains to the ounce of rain-water, answer the 

 same end so much more effectually, that every morning 

 numbers of patients crowded round our house for the 

 collyrium. It is a good preventive of an acute attack 

 when poured into the eyes as soon as the pain begins, 

 and might prove valuable for travellers. Cupping is per- 

 formed with the horn of a goat or antelope, having a 

 little hole pierced in the small end. In some cases a small 

 piece of wax is attached, and a temporary hole made 

 through it to the horn. When the air is well withdrawn, 

 and kept out by touching the orifice at every inspiration 

 with the point of the tongue, the wax is at last pressed 

 together with the teeth, and the little hole in it closed 

 up, leaving a vacuum within the horn for the blood to 

 flow from the already scarified parts. The edges of the 

 horn applied to the surface are wetted, and cupping is 

 well performed, though the doctor occasionally, by 

 separating the fibrine from the blood in a basin of water 

 by his side, and exhibiting it, pretends that he has ex- 

 tracted something more than blood. He can thus explain 

 the rationale of the cure by his own art, and the ocular 

 demonstration given is well appreciated. 



Those doctors who have inherited their profession as 

 an heirloom from their fathers and grandfathers generally 

 possess some valuable knowledge, the result of long and 

 close observation ; but if a man cannot say that the 

 medical art is in his family, he may be considered a quack. 

 With the regular practitioners I always remained on the 

 best terms, by refraining from appearing to doubt their 

 skill in the presence of their patients. Any explanation 

 in private was thankfully received by them, and wrong 

 treatment changed into something more reasonable with 



