On The Edge Of The Primeval Forest by Albert Schweitzer & Ch. Th. Campion

Author:Albert Schweitzer & Ch. Th. Campion
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: A. C. BLACK, Ltd.
Published: 1924-06-17T16:00:00+00:00

So, when the poor, moaning creature comes, I lay my hand on his forehead and say to him: " Don't be afraid! In an hour's time you shall be put to sleep, and when you wake you won't feel any more pain." Very soon he is given an injection of omnipon; the

doctor's wife is called to the hospital, and, with Joseph'* help, makes everything ready for the operation. When that is to begin she administers the anaesthetic, and Joseph, in a long pair of rubber gloves, acts as assistant. The operation is finished, and in the hardly lighted dormitory I watch for the sick man's awaking. Scarcely has he recovered consciousness when he stares about him and ejaculates again and again: " I've no more pain! I've no more pain ! " . . . His hand feels for mine and will not let it go. Then I begin to tell him and the others who are in the room that it is the Lord Jesus who has told the doctor and his wife to come to the Ogowe, and that white people in Europe give them the money to live here and cure the sick negroes. Then I have to answer questions as to who these white people are, where they live, and how they know that the natives suffer so much from sickness. The African sun is shining through the coffee bushes into the dark shed, but we, black and white, sit side by side and feel that we know by experience the meaning of the words: " And all ye are brethren " (Matt, xxni. 8). Would that my generous friends in Europe could come out here and live through one such hour I

CHAPTER VI

LUMBERMEN AND RAFTSMEN IN THE PRIMEVAL FOREST

CAPE LOPEZ, July 2$th-2gth, 1914.

AN abscess, for the opening of which the help of the military doctor at Cape Lopez seemed to be necessary, compelled me about this time to go down to the coast, but we had scarcely got there when it fortunately burst, and the risk of further complications was avoided. My wife and I were kindly entertained at the house of a factory employee called Fourier, whose wife had spent two months that summer at Lambarene, awaiting her confinement at our house. Monsieur Fourier is a grandson of the French philosopher Fourier (1772— 1837), in whose social theories I was much interested when a student in Paris. Now one of his greatgrandchildren has entered the world under our roof!

I cannot yet move about, so spend the whole day in an armchair on the verandah with my wife, looking out over the sea and inhaling with enjoyment the fresh sea breezes. That there is a breeze at all is a delight to us, for in Lambarene there is never any wind except during the short storms, which are known as tornadoes. ,This time of leisure I will employ in writing something about the life of the lumbermen and the raftsmen on the Ogowe.

It was only

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