Back came the terrible scene, and over and over again, till, setting his
teeth hard, Dyke sprang up, and went to another bucket of water which he
had made Jack understand he was to fetch before he left him some hours
ago, and drank long and deeply before returning to the rough pallet,
renewing the cold bandage again, and then sinking upon his knees to bury
his face in his hands.
For a full hour Dyke knelt there in the black darkness as if asleep,
exhausted by the great mental and bodily fatigue, but hearing every
movement--thrilled by the piteous words which came from his brother's
lips. Then with a strange feeling of calm rest filling his breast, he
raised his head, bent over the sick man, and took the hot, burning hand
to hold it to his cheek.
"I won't be such a coward as to break down now, Joe, old chap," he said
softly, and as if it were a confidential whisper which his brother
heard. "I was so tired, and I was frightened to see you like this, but
I'm going to try and play the man now, and--and I'll stick to you, Joe,
to the--"
He was going to say "last," but he checked it, with something like a sob
rising to his lips.
"Till--till you get better, old man, and I can help you to go and sit in
my old corner in the shade among the rocks. For you're going to be
better soon, old chap; and though you're very bad, and it's dark, and
help is so far away, we're not alone, Joe--we're not alone."
No: not alone!
For as the boy knelt there, holding that burning hand, there came the
long, low, yelping wail of the jackals prowling around, as if they
scented death in the air; and as the dismal sound swept here and there
about the lonely house, coming and going, and at times apparently quite
close, Dyke shuddered. But the next moment there arose the deep-toned,
fierce roar of a lion, far away possibly, yet in its tremendous power
sounding so near that it might have been close at hand.
Then the yelping of the jackals ceased, as if the foul creatures had
been scared away by the nobler beast; and after a few uneasy movements
among the frightened cattle in the pens, all was still with a great
solemnity, which thrilled the boy to his deepest depths.
And then it seemed to Dyke that it was not so dark, and he rose and
walked softly to the open door to stand looking out, wondering and
awe-stricken at the grandeur of the scene above his head. For it was as
if the heavens were marked across the zenith by a clearly cut line--the
edge of a black cloud--and on one side all was darkness, on the other a
dazzling sheen of stars, glittering and bright as he thought he had
never seen them before; while the darkness was being swept away, and
fresh stars sprang out from the dense curtain minute by minute, and
seemed to rain down myriads of points of light.
He stood there till he heard a low, weary sigh from the rough bed, and
turned back in time to hear a few muttered words, and then all was
silent once again.
Dyke trembled, and something seemed to hold him fast chained, as if in a
troubled dream.
Then with a wild cry he fell upon his knees, and stretched out his
trembling hands to touch his brother's brow, and the reaction came, for
it was not as he thought. The head was cooler, and there was a faint
moisture about the temples, while the muttering was renewed for a few
moments, and ended with a sigh.
Dyke's hands were softly passed then to his brother's breast, which rose
and fell gently, and when he let his fingers glide along the arm that
had been tossed to one side, there the tell-tale pulse beat rapidly
still at the wrist, but not--certainly not so heavily and hurried in
every throb, for Joe Emson was sleeping as he had not slept for many
days.
The hours went on till, as Dyke sat there, the darkness began to pass,
and the watcher was conscious of a double dawn. The first in himself,
where, as he crouched by the bed, and thought of words that had never
impressed him much before, it was as if Hope were rising slowly, and it
strengthened in its pale, soft light, and mingled with the faint grey
which began to steal in through the narrow window. And this too
lengthened and strengthened, till it began to glow. The fowls--the few
they had left--told that it was day. Once more he could hear the
ostriches chuckling, hissing, and roaring, and the lowing of the cows
and bullocks sounded pleasant and welcome, as a fresh, soft air began to
play through the door.
The shadows within the room grew paler, till, all at once, they darkened
again in the corners, for the full beams of the sun suddenly stole in
through the window, and played upon the opposite wall, which glowed in
orange and gold.
But Dyke did not see the refulgent hues with which the shabby white-wash
and prints were painted, for he was watching his brother's face, all so
terribly changed since their last parting. The eyes were sunken, and
hollows showed about the temples and cheeks. There was a terrible dry
blackness, too, about the skin; while the hands that lay upon the bed
were thin and full of starting tendons, all tokens of the fever which
had laid the strong man low.
But he was sleeping, and sleep at such a time meant life; while the
head, bared now by the rough shearing Dyke had given the previous
evening, was hot, but not burning with that terrible fire which scorches
out the very life where it has commenced to glow.
"Baas Joe dead?" said a voice at the door, and Dyke started to his feet
to seize a short, heavy whip; but Kaffir Jack did not stop to see it
seized. He turned and fled, while a low muttering growl roused the boy
to the fact that the dog had been there in the corner all the night, and
now came forward to thrust a cool nose into his master's hand.
"Why, Duke, old chap, I'd forgotten you," said Dyke softly. The dog
gave his tail a series of rapid wags, and then came to the bedside,
looked at the sick man, whined softly, and then sat and rested his
muzzle upon one of the feeble hands, watching the face intently, and as
if meaning to keep guard there.
Dyke followed, and laid his hand on the dog's head; but the faithful
animal did not stir.
"No, Duke, old man, Baas Joe is not dead yet," whispered Dyke, as he
gazed at his brother's face; "and, please God, we're going to bring him
safely back to what he was."
Duke did not move his head; but he raised his tail once, and brought it
down upon the floor with a heavy--_whop_!