These Masons Were Continually Having Quarrels
And Fights Amongst Themselves, And I Had Frequently
To Go Down To Their Camp To Quell Disturbances And
To Separate The Hindus From The Mohammedans.
One Particularly Serious Disturbance Of This Sort
Had A Rather Amusing Sequel.
I was sitting after
dusk one evening at the door of my hut, when I
heard a great commotion
In the masons' camp,
which lay only a few hundred yards away.
Presently a jemadar came rushing up to me to say
that the men were all fighting and murdering
each other with sticks and stones. I ran back
with him at once and succeeded in restoring order,
but found seven badly injured men lying stretched
out on the ground. These I had carried up to
my own boma on charpoys (native beds); and
Brock being away, I had to play the doctor myself
as best I could, stitching one and bandaging
another and generally doing what was possible.
There was one man, however, who groaned
loudly and held a cloth over his face as if he
were dying. On lifting this covering, I found
him to be a certain mason called Karim Bux,
who was well known to me as a prime
mischief-maker among the men. I examined him carefully,
but as I could discover nothing amiss, I concluded
that he must have received some internal injury,
and accordingly told him that I would send him
to the hospital at Voi (about thirty miles down
the line) to be attended to properly.
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