matter is issuing from both the apertures of entry and exit of the
bullet, while the shattered bones grate on each other, and cause
the man to bite convulsively the rolled-up end of his turban, on the
slightest movement.

For the first remedy a fat sheep is bought and slain and immediately
skinned, the reeking skin being applied at once to the bare leg,
with the bloody side next the skin, from groin to heel, and the whole
bound up and placed in the hollow formed by burning out the central
core from the half of a three-foot length of tree-trunk.

For the second remedy a message is sent to a certain religious devotee,
who has an asylum in the neighbourhood and a great reputation for
charms which will cure all manner of diseases (when it is the will
of God that they shall be cured). Next day he arrives, clad in simple
goatskin, with the hair outside, and a cap of similar material. Many
long prayers are gone through with the help of the Mullah, and at last
a small piece of printed paper torn from an Arabic tract is produced,
and carefully sewn up in a small piece of leather, and tied in the
name of God round the man's ankle.

Then comes the last ceremony, and one not to be overlooked on any
account--that of providing a feast at the sick man's expense for all
parties concerned. His little store of rupees is fetched out, and
returns lighter by a third to the folds of the old turban in which
it was carefully hoarded, while the charm-maker is seen leading away
a fine milch goat.

Day follows day, and night follows night, but still Manak Khan lies
tossing feverish on a bed of pain, and still is the patient Sadura
watching by his bedside, and daily bringing in fresh milk and butter
and sugar, and making tempting pancakes, only to be left half tasted
by the fever-stricken frame of her loved one. At last the tenth day
comes, on which the sheepskin is to be removed, and the hakim comes,
and the Mullah comes, and the greybeards come, and prayers are read,
and money is given; but, to the disappointment of all, the limb
is found no better, swollen as before, and bathed in evil-smelling
matter, which makes his friends, all but his faithful wife, bind a
fold or two of their turbans over their noses and mouths.

So week follows week. One herb is tried after another; the last of
his rupees disappears among the hakims, for, peradventure, think they,
the doctor did not heal it at once because his fee was not high enough,
so a larger fe