d beneath the
overhanging branches.

It was not the spot where he had filled the canteen, but he knew that he
must be near it; and he started again, but only to have to get back once
more to the stream, where there was a rush, a scuffling noise and a loud
splashing, that made him start back with a shudder running up his spine,
for he knew by the sound that it must be a crocodile.

Worst of all he was unarmed, having left his gun beside the fainting
Malay.

All he could do was to back as quietly as he could into the jungle, with
canes and interlacing growths hindering him at every step; thorns tore
and clung to his clothes, and he felt that if any creature gave chase to
him it must overtake him directly. His only chance of safety then was
in inaction; and fretting with annoyance he crouched there, listening to
the shudder-engendering crawling noise made by evidently several
loathsome reptiles about the bank of the stream.

After a while this ceased, and he made another attempt to get back to
the Malay, going on and on through the darkness, and from time to time
shouting to him. He knew that he must be crossing and recrossing his
track, and blamed himself angrily for not being more careful. His
shouts produced no response, and the matches he lit failed to give him
the aid he had hoped; and at last, utterly exhausted, he sank down
amidst the dense undergrowth to wait for daylight, with the result that
nature would bear no more, and in spite of the help he knew his
companion needed, the danger of his companions, and the perils by which
he was surrounded from wild beasts, his head sank lower and lower upon
his breast, and he slept.

Not willingly, for he kept starting back into wakefulness, and walked to
and fro; but all in vain, sleep gradually mastered him; and he sank
lower and lower, falling into a deep slumber, and, as he afterwards
said, when talking about the adventure, "If I had been in front of a
cannon, and knew that it was to be fired, I could only have said--Just
wait till I am fast asleep, and then do what you please."

The sun was up when he started into full wakefulness, and his clothes
were drenched with dew.

"If I don't have a taste of jungle fever after this, it's strange to
me," he said, hastily swallowing a little white powder from a tiny
bottle. "A stitch in time saves nine, and blessed is the salt quinine."

"Humph! that's rhyme," he grunted. "Only to think that I should go to
sleep. Ah