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Chapter eighteen. The First Rains |
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illness; dispensary at Laisong |
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Since the Rains are always the sickly season, there was a great deal else to do besides taking notes. I had run a dispensary at Laisong from the beginning, for it was much the best way of winning confidence. At first they only came with infected cuts, days, weeks, even, after the initial injury. But, in time, they realized the value of first aid; and when they did, it became routine for men to arrive panting and dripping blood in the front veranda, have a gash dressed, and trot off again to resume their field-work, which might be anything up to a mile away. Quinine they wanted too, for malaria was rife, but in all other illnesses they preferred their magico-religious ceremonies. I am bound to say that the only time that one was done for me, it was an immense success. I went to bed a groaning cripple, and I got up and walked next day. |
