JustasthesunwassettinguponthatmelancholynightIsawthelonelyfigureoftheIndianuponthevastplainbeneathme,andIwatchedhim,ouronefainthopeofsalvation,untilhedisappearedintherisingmistsofeveningwhichlay,rose-tintedfromthesettingsun,betweenthefar-offriverandme.
ItwasquitedarkwhenIatlastturnedbacktoourstrickencamp,andmylastvisionasIwentwastheredgleamofZambo'sfire,theonepointoflightinthewideworldbelow,aswashisfaithfulpresenceinmyownshadowedsoul.AndyetIfelthappierthanIhaddonesincethiscrushingblowhadfallenuponme,foritwasgoodtothinkthattheworldshouldknowwhatwehaddone,sothatattheworstournamesshouldnotperishwithourbodies,butshouldgodowntoposterityassociatedwiththeresultofourlabors.
Itwasanawesomethingtosleepinthatill-fatedcampandyetitwasevenmoreunnervingtodosointhejungle.Oneortheotheritmustbe.Prudence,ontheonehand,warnedmethatIshouldremainonguard,butexhaustedNature,ontheother,declaredthatIshoulddonothingofthekind.Iclimbedupontoalimbofthegreatgingkotree,buttherewasnosecureperchonitsroundedsurface,andIshouldcertainlyhavefallenoffandbrokenmyneckthemomentIbegantodoze.Igotdown,therefore,andponderedoverwhatIshoulddo.Finally,Iclosedthedoorofthezareba,litthreeseparatefiresinatriangle,andhavingeatenaheartysupperdroppedoffintoaprofoundsleep,fromwhichIhadastrangeandmostwelcomeawakening.Intheearlymorning,justasdaywasbreaking,ahandwaslaiduponmyarm,andstartingup,withallmynervesinatingleandmyhandfeelingforarifle,IgaveacryofjoyasinthecoldgraylightIsawLordJohnRoxtonkneelingbesideme.
Itwashe—andyetitwasnothe.Ihadlefthimcalminhisbearing,correctinhisperson,priminhisdress.Nowhewaspaleandwild-eyed,gaspingashebreathedlikeonewhohasrunfarandfast.Hisgauntfacewasscratchedandbloody,hisclotheswerehanginginrags,andhishatwasgone.Istaredinamazement,buthegavemenochanceforquestions.Hewasgrabbingatourstoresallthetimehespoke.
"Quick,youngfellah!Quick!"hecried."Everymomentcounts.Gettherifles,bothofthem.Ihavetheothertwo.Now,allthecartridgesyoucangather.Fillupyourpockets.Now,somefood.Halfadozentinswilldo.That'sallright!Don'twaittotalkorthink.Getamoveon,orwearedone!"
Stillhalf-awake,andunabletoimaginewhatitallmightmean,Ifoundmyselfhurryingmadlyafterhimthroughthewood,arifleundereacharmandapileofvariousstoresinmyhands.Hedodgedinandoutthroughthethickestofthescrubuntilhecametoadenseclumpofbrush-wood.Intothisherushed,regardlessofthorns,andthrewhimselfintotheheartofit,pullingmedownbyhisside.
"There!