Dead Man's Land Part 78

"Ah, then," cried Mark, "you got us away?"

"That's right, sir; but it was close work, and it was big Mak kept the brutes off while Dan carried you, and I got Mr Dean up on my back while the little Pig showed us the way through the darkness."

"Then--then--" cried Mark pa.s.sionately. "You--two--two strong men came away and left my father and the doctor in the hands of those wretches!

Oh, cowards! Cowards! Cowards! How could you! How could you! How--"

The boy fainted.

CHAPTER FORTY TWO.

A VAIN APPEAL.

It was one morning when Mark lay fairly collected and able to talk, and the first objects his eyes lit upon were the two blacks seated together busy crushing up some succulent leaves, which they worked between a couple of stones till they had formed them into a thick green paste.

This done, the little fellow brought other leaves, covered one with the green paste, and then as Mark watched him he placed this woodland-plaster on the fleshy part of his companion's leg and secured it in its place with some long, gra.s.sy, fibrous growth which Mak had chewed and twisted into a kind of string.

This done, the black lay upon one side with his teeth at work preparing some more rough bandage, while the pigmy formed another plaster, which was in turn secured to the black's left arm.

As Mark lay there feeling too helpless and weary to move, he watched in turn the surgical applications of the pigmy, as he attended to bad cuts that had been suffered by Buck Denham and Dan.

Mark did not know it then, during those next few days, but he realised afterwards that it was due to sheer weakness that with the knowledge of the terrible defeat, and that his father and friends were either killed or taken prisoners, he could lie there so calmly watching what was going on.

There was much to see in the coming and going of the two blacks, who brought the food and the water they drank, while Buck Denham and Dan, badly as they were hurt, never wearied in their attentions. His cousin too was constantly at his side, ready to attend to every wish. At other times he sat gazing at him with an imploring expression of countenance as if begging not to be reproached for a catastrophe that he laid upon his own shoulders.

"Who'd have thought it, Buck?" said Mark, one day, as he lay helpless, listening to the trickling water of the spring in the thick patch of forest that had been made their camp.

"Thought what, sir?" said the big driver, as he emptied the last sc.r.a.ps of tobacco from his pouch into his homemade corn-straw pipe.

"That that little black would be so grateful for what the doctor did."

"Oh, yes, sir; he's a reg'lar little trump--the Jack, me and Dan call him, and old Black Mak the King. Those two chaps arn't as fond of you as Christians would be, but they think a deal more of you than dogs would, and it seems to me they are a kind of people as never forgets, especially the little 'un. Anybody that has ill-used them they'd wait if it was for years till they got their chance to let them have it again, and as Dan says, they never seem as if they could do enough for one who has done them a good turn. Why, old Dan and me got so chopped about that night that we could only just crawl about after we had cooled down. Luckily in the 'citement we didn't feel so bad, but after a day or two we could hardly move, and as to doing a bit of hunting or shooting, we were good for nothing. Why, we might have got thinking that we should starve out here in the woods, but here have we been living like fighting c.o.c.ks."

"Oh, don't talk about eating!" said Mark peevishly. "I don't see why not, Mr Mark, sir. Dan says a bit of eating helps to put life into you."

"Ah!" said Mark, with a low deep sigh. He made an effort to turn round on the bed of leaves, that the blacks had made for him, but it was beyond his strength, and Dean, giving him a wistful look, tenderly placed him in the position he wished, Mark grasping his hand the while, and strengthening his grasp as Dean tried to draw his own hand away.

The next minute to his surprise Dean found that his cousin had sunk into a deep sleep, and many hours pa.s.sed before the boy awoke, still holding his cousin's hand.

That next morning was the turning point, for Mark answered a wistful look from his cousin with the words, "I couldn't help it, Dean--no, no, no, Dean! Dean! Dean!--I say, I couldn't help it after what had happened. There, that's all dead and buried."

Dean hesitated, but he saw his cousin's eyes flash, and he held out his hands and drew him into a sitting position.

"Here, Dan!" cried Mark; and the little sailor sprang to him from where he was busy cooking.

"Hullo, Mr Mark, sir!" he cried. "You are a-getting on!"

Those words, uttered loudly, brought up Buck Denham from where he had been bathing one of the cuts he had received.

"Oh, I say, Mr Mark," he said, "you mustn't do that! You arn't strong enough."

"I want to get up and walk; help me," was the reply, or rather command; and the big fellow obeyed at once, taking one side, Dean the other, and between them the poor lad took a few steps; and then his head sank sideways while he submitted to being laid back on his leafy couch, breathing hard and closing his eyes.

The next day he was as insistent as before.

"I want to walk. I must grow strong," he said, sternly now. "Help me."

Another day pa.s.sed, and Dean, who had left his cousin asleep while he went out to help the men to fetch water, returned to camp to look about with startled eyes, for Mark's couch was vacant, and Dean's first thought was that, fancying he had gained enough strength, he had started off alone.

Reproaching himself with what he looked upon as neglect of his cousin, he hurried off amongst the trees, searching in the direction that he thought it probable Mark would have taken.

"I'm sure he can't have gone far," he said to himself; and so it proved, for before long he caught sight of him.

Mark, who did not hear him come up, was kneeling by a great trunk, his clasped hands resting upon the b.u.t.tress, his brow bent, and his lips moving rapidly.

Dean, with the nerves of his face twitching, crept silently up to where he could touch his cousin, and then resting his own hands upon those of Mark, he too bent down, and the next minute his lips were also moving.

At last Mark spoke.

"Oh, Dean," he said, "a few minutes ago I thought that all was over.

But oh, what a coward I have been, when perhaps all the time the poor dad, a prisoner, is comforting himself with the hope that we shall go and rescue him!"

"Don't--don't, old chap!" cried Dean. "Call _me_ a coward, if you like; I won't mind. But it's like sticking one of the Illaka's spears into me when you, you brave old chap, keep on reproaching yourself; and every word you say is nothing but a lie."

"Brave old chap!" cried Mark mockingly, and he burst into a strange laugh which made his cousin shiver.

"Don't!" cried Dean pa.s.sionately. "What does a fellow want? To be brave? Doesn't he want to be well and strong?"

"Oh, I suppose so."

"And there have you been fainting dead away over and over again. Who could be brave when he is like that?"

"There, don't talk. We are wasting time."

"What are you going to do?"

"You ask me that, with your uncle waiting to be saved! Come on."

"Come on where?"

"I must--I must get back to the ruins."

The boy took hold tightly of the sharp-edged b.u.t.tress-like root upon which his hands had rested, and exerting the little strength that he had gained, he drew himself up erect, and then with everything swimming round, he reeled away from his support and would have fallen heavily but for the way in which Dean s.n.a.t.c.hed at him, and yet, in spite of a quick effort on the boy's part, the pair fell heavily down amongst the bushes.

"It's of no use, Mark; you are too weak and helpless. We must go on camping here for the present."

"You are quite right," said Mark sadly, "I am as weak as a child; but we have to go."

"But you can't," cried Dean angrily.