They answered that,
as the woman was otherwise going to die, we were entirely right
in doing whatever we could. I found the patient placidly smoking
a pipe, her injured arm over the edge of the hammock. By this time
she understood that she was to have her arm amputated by a surgical
novice. She seemed not to be greatly concerned over the matter, and
went on smoking her pipe while we made the arrangements. We placed her
on the floor and told her to lie still. We adjusted some rubber cloth
under the dead arm. Her husband and three children stood watching with
expressionless faces. Two monkeys, tied to a board in a corner were
playing and fighting together. A large parrot was making discursive
comment on the whole affair, while a little lame dog seemed to be the
most interested spectator. The secretary took the bistoury from the
bowl containing the sublimate and handed it to me with a bow. With
a piece of cotton I washed the intended spot of operation and traced
a line with a pencil on the arm.
Imagine with what emotions I worked! After we had once started,
however, we forgot everything except the success of our operation. I
omit a description of the details, as they might prove too
gruesome. The woman fainted from shock just before we touched the
bone,--Nature thus supplying an effective, if rude, anaesthetic.
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