althily drawing up
his legs, as if for a spring, and in my terror I believe I should have
pulled the trigger, when suddenly the knife dropped from his hand, and
pointing with his finger to his dry, cracked lips, he said, "A boire,
"--water.

The look of earnest, almost passionate entreaty of the poor creature's
face, the expression of want and misery, struggling with a faint hope,
as he uttered these words, routed all fears for myself; and filling a
cup from the tank with water, I emptied the last remaining drops of my
brandy-flask into it, and held it to his mouth.

[Illustration: 178]

He swallowed it greedily; and then, clasping my wrist with his gaunt
and bony fingers, held me fast for a few seconds while he recovered his
breath; at last, with an effort that seemed almost convulsive, he said
some words in Spanish which I could not understand. I shook my head to
show him my ignorance of the language, and then, fixing his eye full
upon me, he said, "Alone, here? boy alone?"

Understanding that this referred to myself, I answered at once that I
was alone, and had been deserted by my companions.

"Bad men, white men!" cried he, gnashing his teeth savagely; while again
he pointed to his lips, and muttered, "Water!" I endeavored to free
myself from his grasp to fill the cup once more; but he held me firmly,
and showed by a sign that he wished me to assist him to reach the tank.
I accordingly stooped down to help him, and now perceived that he could
do little more than drag his legs forward and support himself on the
knees; being either wholly or in part paralyzed from his hips downwards.
"Ah, foco!" cried he, twice or thrice, and then changed to the word
"Feu!" "Le feu!" on which his gaze was fixed with a horrid earnestness.

It was not without labor and much exertion that I succeeded in
dragging him near the embers of the fire; but having done so, I quickly
replenished the dying flame, and, fanning it with my hat, soon succeeded
in making a cheerful blaze once more. "Buono! goot! goot!" said he,
several times, as he held his shrivelled and wasted fingers almost into
the fire.

"Are you hungry?" said I, bending down to make myself heard.

He nodded twice.

"Can you eat biscuit? I have nothing else," said I; for I half feared
that the hard, dry food would be impracticable for his almost toothless
jaws.

He said something about "Guisado," once or twice; and at last made a
sign that I understood to mean that the