ssion as an heirloom
from their fathers and grandfathers generally possess some valuable
knowledge, the result of long and close observation; but if a man can
not say that the medical art is in his family, he may be considered
a quack. With the regular practitioners I always remained on the best
terms, by refraining from appearing to doubt their skill in the presence
of their patients. Any explanation in private was thankfully received
by them, and wrong treatment changed into something more reasonable with
cordial good-will, if no one but the doctor and myself were present at
the conversation. English medicines were eagerly asked for and accepted
by all; and we always found medical knowledge an important aid in
convincing the people that we were really anxious for their welfare.
We can not accuse them of ingratitude; in fact, we shall remember the
kindness of the Bakwains to us as long as we live.

The surgical knowledge of the native doctors is rather at a low ebb. No
one ever attempted to remove a tumor except by external applications.
Those with which the natives are chiefly troubled are fatty and fibrous
tumors; and as they all have the 'vis medicatrix naturae' in remarkable
activity, I safely removed an immense number. In illustration of their
want of surgical knowledge may be mentioned the case of a man who had a
tumor as large as a child's head. This was situated on the nape of his
neck, and prevented his walking straight. He applied to his chief, and
he got some famous strange doctor from the East Coast to cure him. He
and his assistants attempted to dissolve it by kindling on it a little
fire made of a few small pieces of medicinal roots. I removed it for
him, and he always walked with his head much more erect than he needed
to do ever afterward. Both men and women submit to an operation without
wincing, or any of that shouting which caused young students to faint in
the operating theatre before the introduction of chloroform. The women
pride themselves on their ability to bear pain. A mother will address
her little girl, from whose foot a thorn is to be extracted, with, "Now,
ma, you are a woman; a woman does not cry." A man scorns to shed tears.
When we were passing one of the deep wells in the Kalahari, a boy,
the son of an aged father, had been drowned in it while playing on its
brink. When all hope was gone, the father uttered an exceedingly great
and bitter cry. It was sorrow without hope. This was the on