FIGHTING THE PLAGUE.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 18899, 27 June 1923, Page 11

FIGHTING THE PLAGUE.

POSITION IN DELHI. PASSIVE RESISTANCE TO MEDICAL RELIEF. A correspondent of the Manchester Guardian writes; —If I am not mistaken, history tolls us that tho Groat Plague in London was succeeded iu the following year by a lire which destroyed a, considerable portion of the slums in which the epidemic had occurred. Frankly, it is almost to be hoped that history will repeat itself in Delhi. Heaven knows whore "the inhabitants would go to if it did. But that is by the way. For the benefit of those who are- unacquainted with the Indian capital, it may bo said that Delhi consists of two parts—the city proper and tho civil lines. 'I he city can again bo subdivided into the Indian quarter and the European shopping quarter at Kashmir Gate. Bubonic plague first broke out in tho Indian quarter last November, having started in some neighbouring villages a few weeks previously. At first there were some 12 or 15 cases a day, and the epidemic is still confined almost entirely to tho native part of the city. The reason is not far to seek, when yon see that salubrious district. Bermondsey, North Shields, Gallowgato, are veritable garden cities in comparison. It is, in fact, remarkable that even now, five months after the first case was reported, the daily death rate from plague seldom exceeds 40 or 50. About the middle of March matters began to grow serious. I am not aware what official steps were being taken cither to relieve the plague-stricken or to suppress the plague, beyond disinfecting the phenyl those "houses” where deaths had occurred onlv to drive the rats and their fleas else-where—-and inoculating the few people who were not of a fatalistic turn of mind. Delhi is none too fully staffed with qualified doctors: few of the patients are either willing or able to pay fees in any case. It was this apparent deficiency which stirred a lady of tho Cambridge Mission to organise relief work amongst tho unfortunate people who were affected. She was joined by other members of the Mission staff and some students of St. Stephen’s College, members of the Social Service League, _ and the croup placed themselves at the disposal of I)r Sinha, the able and energetic Assistant Hedlth Officer of Delhi. THE HOMES OF THE VICTIMS. Now relief, a simple enough conception in itself, presents some, difficulties when the scene of operations is reached. These can best bo understood by a personal visit to the “bastis.” A- basti, generally speaking, is a small courtyard, surrounded on all sides by mud huts. You enter, climbing over tho day’s refuse heap; there is a shout of ‘‘A Sahib has come,” and all the children disappear, all the women cover their faces, and all the dogs (these are legion) start to bark. .. , , , , . Ts anyone ill? you ask. No reply, but the women uncover and stare. ‘Ts there any sickness here?” you repeat. ‘‘No, there is none. Absolutely none. All are well, thanks be to God.” "Then what is the matter with that man on the bed?” ‘‘He? tie has fever from five days.” \Vill ho take medicine?” you ask, approaching. “No, he will not.” On examining him there is a bubo which marks (his vile disease. Strong iodine ointment is administered thereto on a betel leaf, and tho swelling bound up. Having got so far, resistance is usually overcome, and tbev allow you to administer the medicine which is provided—mostly stimulant and iodine. Provided the sufferers are found within a day or two of tho first attack of fever, dosed, made to He down, and fed on milk and water an encouragingly large percentage of them recover, the chief enemy to be grappled with, of course, being fright. “And are there any other cases?” "Oh. no; no more.” “Has anyone died here?” Yes; two to-day and one yesterday.” “What did you do with their clothes?” “Gave them to the sweeper, of course.” "Where does he live?” “God knows. What is that to us?” "Who is that little girl oyer there?” “She has a fever. Her mother died, and her father is mad. He also will die.” She also has plague and his dosed. “But who will give her medicine this afternoon?” you ask. “Sahib, if we touch her, we die. All who have touched her are now dead.” “Then who feeds her?” “What business of ours is that? If we touch her we die.” THE HOSPITAL.

Take her to the infectious disease hospital (if you can) certainly. But look at it first. A group of one-time tombs, ■with the usual domed roof and open sides. No beds—you must bring your own. A tcniieducated compounder and an uneducated asistant in charge, who certainly do their best. Between the buildings one of Marshall’s steam rollers, aiding and abetting the laying down of a magnificent highway to the new city, Raisina. In this place Br Sinha struggles in spare moments to revive the sick—though enticing them thereto is a far, far harder thing than introducing a pauper to the British workhouse. Meanwhile the Senior Health Officer tries to bring up the total number of inoculations. But why this inoculation? ‘lf (tod wills it, we live. If not. we die. There will be/taklif’; wo shall lose two davs’ pay ’’ Tries also to educate some of Delhi’s citizens. Let us,” said Mr Amin Dddin, secretary of the Social Service League, “start a rat-destruction campaign.’’ “No,” replied one of his members, “it is not good to take life.”

We are told that, provided the thermometer curve rises as it should, the epidemic will begin to decrease early in Mav. the little companions who carry the germ from rat to man and from man to lii 3 fellows expire then, it would appear. Which is fortunate, for a month amnog the bastis of Delhi, whore drains as we "know ihem hardly exist, where all roofs arc thatched, all clothes are dark and therefore do not icquire washing’, and where all houses contam the winter’s store of cow-dnng for fuel —a month, a week here induces one to wonder why these people live at all.