She had never complained nor
whimpered when Tom's heavy hand had corrected her, though the dried
trickle of blood had been seen on her forehead, and now that she lay
a-dying, with her figure strangely swollen, she moaned only when Torn,
with his heavy hand, sought to squeeze out the dead man, "all the same
like debil-debil," who was, according to him, the cause of the trouble.
But it was all too implacable and crafty a "debil-debil" for Tom to cast
out. We did our best with brandy and steaming flannels; but it was all
so useless, for none understood the sickness, or how to prescribe a
remedy that might be effective. Our helplessness was grievous. We could
only repeat the sips of brandy and water, and endeavour to warm the
chilly little body with steamy flannels.
All did something. Even Nelly, the second best wife, who had had to play
a very subordinate part in the camp, and whom "Little Jinny" had
slapped and had abused with all the volubility of spite and temper,
crouched beside her dying rival, chafing her cold hands and warming her
cheeks.
And here was the most touching incident of the pathetic scene. We had
brandy and blankets and flannels wherewith to endeavour to afford
relief.
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