It was at this time about seven o'clock, and we sat down to dinner in
the divan, as it was too chilly to dine outside.
We had just finished dinner, when Abd-el-Kader suddenly entered the
divan in a state of troubled excitement, to inform me that "many of the
troops appeared to be dying, and they had evidently been POISONED by the
plantain cider!"
I inquired "how many men had drunk from the jars?" He could not tell,
but he feared that at least half the company had taken some portion,
more or less. He had himself drunk a tumblerful, and he already felt
uncomfortable, with a tightness of the throat, and a burning pain in his
inside.
I at once flew to my medicinal arms. Independently of the large
medicine-chest, I had a small box, about nine inches by five, which
contained all that could be desired for any emergency. This little chest
had been my companion for twenty-five years.
I begged my wife to get as much mustard and strong salt and water ready
as she could mix in a hurry, and I started off with Abd-el-Kader and
Lieutenant Baker.
