It is sometimes difficult to arrive at an exact diagnosis of a patient’s ailment. One will describe her complaint, pointing to her lungs, as a voice inside that says “Chew, chew.” Another affirm that a spear is running into every part of his body. Infants are always suffering from evil spirits or poisoning, in cases when a dose of dill water would be generally prescribed. Although I have occasionally met with a native doctor in a sick house, I have never been able to discover a native drug or remedy outside cupping, branding, and revolting forms of witchcraft. These men make a regular study of the art of deception and exact exorbitant fees in the form of goats or even oxen. As an example let me give the case of a lad who was suffering from tuberculosis. He had consulted the witch doctor, and after having paid his fee was told that he had been poisoned. Whereupon the “surgeon” drew his knife out from his belt and made a number of small incisions. He then declared he could see the poison inside the youth and took it away. But the lad was not cured and so came down to give the European’s wisdom a trial. This ignorant credulity of the people has sometimes proved useful to the white man in times of extremity. In one instance a European noticed that his daily supply of milk was continually disappearing in an unaccountable way, and one day he determined to investigate the cause. It had been proved that the cows were not to blame; they had given their usual supply. The milk boy was cleared, for the boys of the household vouched for having seen it being delivered. The discrepancy in the amount had unmistakably occurred in the cook house, where the cook alone was resident at the time. So the culprit was called up to be examined. He insisted on his innocence declaring all the while that he did not know how to drink milk. As no eye-witnesses could be called the idea struck the “magistrate” that he would conclude the matter quickly and unquestionably by their own means. Turning to a youth close by he said “Just fetch me my little pocket knife to bore a hole and see if the milk is inside the cook.” Whereupon the culprit fell on his knees exclaiming, “Oh, master, I did drink the milk. Forgive me, I pray you.”