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The second day of our stay in Mondoldo was signalized
by a noteworthy exhibition of the surgical skill of Samoa;
who had often boasted, that though well versed in the science
of breaking men's heads, he was equally an adept in mending
their crockery.

Overnight, Borabolla had directed his corps of sea-divers
to repair early on the morrow, to a noted section of the
great Mardian reef, for the purpose of procuring for our regalement
some of the fine Hawk's-bill turtle, whose secret
retreats were among the cells and galleries of that submerged
wall of coral, from whose foamy coping no plummet dropped
ever yet touched bottom.

These turtles were only to be obtained by diving far down
under the surface; and then swimming along horizontally,
and peering into the coral honeycomb; snatching at a flipper
when seen, as at a pinion in a range of billing dove-cotes.

As the king's divers were thus employed, one of them,
Karhownoo by name, perceived a Devil-shark, so called,
swimming wistfully toward him from out his summer grotto
in the reef. No way petrified by the sight, and pursuing
the usual method adopted by these divers in such emergencies,
Karhownoo, splashing the water, instantly swam toward
the stranger. But the shark, undaunted, advanced: a thing
so unusual, and fearful, that, in an agony of fright, the diver
shot up for the surface. Heedless, he looked not up as he
went; and when within a few inches of the open air, dashed
his head against a projection of the reef. He would have

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sunk into the live tomb beneath, were it not that three of
his companions, standing on the brink, perceived his peril,
and dragged him into safety.

Seeing the poor fellow was insensible, they endeavored,
ineffectually, to revive him; and at last, placing him in
their canoe, made all haste for the shore. Here a crowd
soon gathered, and the diver was borne to a habitation, close
adjoining Borabolla's; whence, hearing of the disaster, we
sallied out to render assistance.

Upon entering the hut, the benevolent old king commanded
it to be cleared; and then proceeded to examine the
sufferer.

The skull proved to be very badly fractured; in one
place, splintered.

“Let me mend it,” said Samoa, with ardor.

And being told of his experience in such matters, Borabolla
surrendered the patient.

With a gourd of water, and a tappa cloth, the one-armed
Upoluan carefully washed the wound; and then calling for
a sharp splinter of bamboo, and a thin, semi-transparent cup
of cocoa-nut shell, he went about the operation: nothing
less than the “Tomoti” (head-mending), in other words the
trepan.

The patient still continuing insensible, the fragments were
disengaged by help of a bamboo scalpel; when a piece of
the drinking cup—previously dipped in the milk of a cocoa-nut—
was nicely fitted into the vacancy, the skin as nicely
adjusted over it, and the operation was complete.

And now, while all present were crying out in admiration
of Samoa's artistic skill, and Samoa himself stood complacently
regarding his workmanship, Babbalanja suggested,
that it might be well to ascertain whether the patient survived.
When, upon sounding his heart, the diver was found
to be dead.

The bystanders loudly lamented; but declared the surgeon
a man of marvelous science.

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Returning to Borabolla's, much conversation ensued, concerning
the sad scene we had witnessed, which presently
branched into a learned discussion upon matters of surgery
at large.

At length, Samoa regaled the company with a story; for
the truth of which no one but him can vouch, for no one
but him was by, at the time; though there is testimony to
show that it involves nothing at variance with the customs
of certain barbarous tribes.

Read on.

p275-348

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