Milalle pulled out some cloths from inside her robe and passed one to Hohsalle, who tied it over his mouth and nose. She passed another to Makokan. He frowned. “But I thought mittsual wasn’t passed from person-to-person?”
Milalle shook her head. “We don’t know anything for certain, and it’s possible that it’s mutated. Also, you have to remember that people who are sick are more vulnerable to illnesses and might catch something from us.”
“Stop dithering and put it on,” Hohsalle ordered irritably. Kicking off his boots, he stepped into the house, and he and Milalle set to examining the patient.
The woman was unresponsive when he took her pulse. A purple rash, the hallmark of mittsual, covered her skin. Hohsalle remained kneeling beside her as he looked up at Tohlim. “When did the dog bite her?”
“She wasn’t bitten by a dog.”
Hohsalle’s eyes widened. “Then by some other beast? A wolf or an ossam?”
“No. They told me no animal bit her.”
Hohsalle and Milalle paled visibly. Glancing at each other, they hastily moved away from the patient.
“If you’re worried about insects, there is no need,” Tohlim said. “I ordered them to sprinkle this hut thoroughly with pesticide.”
Hohsalle’s eyebrows drew together. He gestured to Milalle to check the woman while he approached the corpse. After carefully pulling back the straw mat, he undressed the body and examined it carefully.
A short while later, Milalle said, “I found one.” She pointed to the patient’s side. At first glance, it looked like a mole, but closer inspection revealed that it was a tick swollen with blood. Once ticks attached themselves to the skin and began sucking, they remained there for a week to ten days. They released naturally once gorged with blood. However, if they were pulled off forcefully, their jaws could remain under the skin, causing an infection. This particular tick had apparently died from the pesticide while still sucking blood.
Milalle rose to her feet, her face ashen. She strode quickly out of the hut without a word.
Makokan followed after her. She stood in a pool of sunlight with her back to the hut, trembling all over. Makokan opened his mouth to speak when Hohsalle came stomping from the hut. She looked up at him, her lips quivering, and asked, “Which do you think it is?”
Hohsalle shook his head. “I can’t tell from just looking at the patient. Let’s hear what the villagers have to say.”
Milalle blinked and took a deep breath. The blood slowly returned to her cheeks. “You’re right. This is no time to be afraid. It might even be an important clue.”
She must have noticed Makokan struggling to bite back his questions, because she added, “I mean a clue to what caused the disease. That woman was bitten by a tick, not a dog, yet she’s showing symptoms similar to mittsual. If so, then the cause of the disease may actually be found in ticks, which then infect the dogs they bite.”
Tohlim had joined the others outside and listened intently.
“But there are two other questions we must also consider,” Milalle continued. “Was the disease transmitted directly to the human from the tick without going through a dog? Or did a tick bite a dog infected with it first and then transmit it to the human?”
Hohsalle added, “If it’s the former, a lot of people ought to have been infected by now. If there were no cases before, and it just appeared recently, then what’s the reason for the resurgence, and why didn’t it appear before? If we can find the answers to these questions, we may be able to discover a way to treat the disease.” Excitement tinged his voice.
Turning to Tohlim, Hohsalle said, “We’ll help the woman in there first, but after that, may we interview the villagers about this case?”
Tohlim nodded. “Yes. That’s why I brought you here.” He lowered his voice. “To be honest, getting anything out of them may be challenging. Like the Ahfal Oma, they believe in Kinma, and this illness is considered a punishment from the god. That’s why they abandoned these patients in this hut without treating them.
“But they also live in fear. If we tell them that you are searching for a way of treating the sickness, they might answer your questions.”
Hohsalle and Milalle went back inside, followed by Tohlim, but Makokan could not bring himself to join them yet. He stood silently in the sunlight. Being around sick people always depressed him, but this was no time to give in to such feelings. With a sigh, he turned to go back into the hut when a flash of movement caught his eye.
A large water urn stood beside the hut, and a little face peered from behind it. When their eyes met, the child ducked out of sight. Makokan tiptoed up to the urn and looked over the top. A little girl sat hunched down behind it. She must have sensed him, because she turned and looked up, then made a sour face. “Don’ look!” Although she had an odd manner of speech, she was clearly giving him a good scolding.
“What’re you doing there?” he asked, but she frowned and put a finger to her lips. “Shhh. I’m hidin’! Stop lookin’!”
Makokan couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing.
“Don’ laugh!” she exclaimed. She looked adorable with her shiny red cheeks puffed out in defiance.
Recollecting himself, Makokan wiped the smile from his face. “Is your mother in there?” he asked gently.
She shook her head vigorously. He breathed a sigh of relief and stroked his jaw. “No? Then where are your parents?”
She gazed up at him as if puzzled. He tried again. “What’s your name?” he asked.
Her face crumpled as though she was about to burst into tears. After a brief pause, she said in a small voice, “Yunacha.”