He was moaning, but was practically unconscious, and barely
alive.
The room was crowded to suffocation with weeping relatives and
sympathetic neighbors. Dr. Grenfell cleared it at once. The place was
small and the light poor and a difficult place in which to treat so
critical a case or to operate successfully. He had no surgical
instruments or medicines, and even for him, accustomed as he was to
work under handicaps and difficulties, a serious problem confronted
him.
The man was so far gone that an operation seemed hopeless, but
nevertheless it was worth trying. Grenfell sent messengers far and
near for reserve supplies that he had left at various points to be
drawn upon in cases of emergency, and in a little while had at his
command some opiates, a small amount of ether, some silk for
ligatures, some crude substitutes for instruments, and the supply of
communal wine from the missionary's little church, five miles away.
While these things had been gathered in, the flow of blood had been
abated by the use of a tourniquet. There was scarcely enough ether to
be of use, but with the assistance of two men Dr.
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