THE CHOLERA. 



345 



herself. Life seemed to have lost all its hold 

 upon them. Of course we were the only doctors, 

 and our small stock of ether and brandy were 

 soon exhausted ; the natives, however, treated 

 the complaint sensibly enough with opium and 

 Mvinyo, spirits locally distilled, and did not, like 

 the Anglo-Indian surgeon, murder patients with 

 mercury, the lancet, and the chafing-dish. 



There were hideous sights about Kilwa at 

 that time. Corpses lay in the ravines, and a 

 dead negro rested against the walls of the Custom 

 House. The poorer victims were dragged by the 

 leg along the sand, to be thrown into the ebbing 

 waters of the bay ; those better off were sewn 

 up in matting, and were carried down like ham- 

 mocks to the same general depot. The smooth 

 oily water was dotted with remnants and frag- 

 ments of humanity, black and brown when 

 freshly thrown in, patched, mottled, and parti- 

 coloured when in a state of half pickle, and 

 ghastly white, like scalded pig, when the pig- 

 mentum nigrum had become thoroughly macer- 

 ated. The males lay prone upon the surface, 

 diving as it were, head downwards, when the 

 retiring swell left them in the hollow water; 

 the women floated prostrate with puffed and 

 swollen breasts — I have lately seen this included 



