Warner had travelled many miles from civilisation before his first
patient came to him. The precious box of medicines had all along been
kept handy on the waggon. From time to time he got it down, unpacked it,
examined the labels, shook the bottles, and carefully repacked them.
But, like a real doctor, he did not advertise. It isn't done.
Somehow it did get about at last that he had a box of medicines. How, it
doesn't really matter. The fact remains that a native came to the waggon
one morning with a strip of bark tied tightly round his forehead,
another round his chest, and a third round his belly.
Warner, recognising a case, asked the native what the matter was.
The boy replied: "I have much pain here and here and here," touching the
bands of bark in downward succession.
Warner, pleased at getting a patient at last, took the box of medicines
from the waggon, opened it, took out the bottles one by one, and
examined the labels with the eye of a master.
"Iodine? No, that's for housemaid's knee, gumboils and that sort of
thing. Corrosive sublimate? Wounds. Nitrate of potash? No, eyes. Why not
a pill? Yes, a pill."
But there were boxes and boxes of them. He picked up one after the
other, but met with a check. Each box had on its label the name of its
pill contents, followed by the words: "From one to three as ordered by
the physician." In some cases: "From two to six." There was nothing
about the complaint for which the pill might be used.
Just a little difficult. Doctoring was not such an easy job after all.
"What's this?"
The gaudy label on a small box read:
Sovereign Remedy. Trick No. 10.
Never known to fail. Surprising in its effects.
_Directions:_--Borrow a sovereign. Request the lender to take a
seat. Ask him how he feels. Tell him he is looking off-colour.
Suggest headache. Say you will brighten him up, that you will make
his head glow pleasantly, etc. Palm the sovereign in your left
hand. Empty contents of box into your right. Rub the powder well
into gent's head, which will become golden (metallic). Then proceed
as in Trick No. 6.
The directions seemed clear enough.
"Sit down," said Warner.
The native obeyed, squatting on the ground and spreading his loin cloth
over his knees like an apron.
"I am going to take away your pains."
"Thank you, sir."
It suddenly occurred to Warner that, though the native might have a
shilling, he certainly would not possess a sovereign, so he took one
from his own pocket, wishing he had thought of this before.
"You see this?" said Warner, holding up the coin.
"Yes sir, much money."
Now Warner didn't know how to palm a coin. He had seen it done, of
course, but had never yet tried to palm or to do anything else in the
nature of a conjuring trick. To guard against possible accident, he
turned his back upon the boy and very cautiously opened the box.
It was full of some bright yellow metallic powder. He read the
directions again and wondered what Trick No. 6 might be. He wished he
had risked a pill.
However, he had not the courage to go back now. The native might suspect
his ignorance if he selected another box. It was hardly playing the game
perhaps to trick a poor confiding black, but Warner consoled himself
with the thought that it is said of even real doctors that when in doubt
they sometimes give their patients bread pills.
So, emptying the contents of the box into his right hand, he turned
again and began to rub the golden powder into the native's woolly head.
The sovereign he held in his left hand.
The more he rubbed, the brighter grew his patient's head. It
scintillated.
The trick pleased Warner, who soon forgot his misgivings; he forgot the
sovereign too, and rubbed the powder in with both hands.
The coin fell into the patient's lap. Warner was busy and didn't notice
the accident at once, but the native did. He picked up the money and
quietly slipped it into the rawhide pouch attached to his belt.
At length Warner stepped back and surveyed his handiwork. The boy's head
shone like a brass knob. He glanced at his own hands. They looked as if
they had been gilded. Both hands! Where the devil had that sovereign
gone to?
He looked on the ground. He felt in all his pockets. He looked at the
boy, who said nothing. He therefore dismissed the patient without
mentioning his loss.
Whilst washing the greasy gold stuff off his hands, Warner was conscious
of a hum of excitement rising from the spot where his natives had made
their midday shelter. Trick No. 10 was evidently a success. The hospital
orderly was right; he had surprised the natives.
That night all his boys, and a score of strange natives besides, came to
Warner complaining of pains. Each one had a strip of bark tied tightly
round his forehead, a second round his chest, and a third round his
stomach. They lingered as if dissatisfied when he gave pills to
each--one or more as ordered by the physician--taken at random from his
many little pill boxes.