s to be done next?"
"Get up, and let's find the men."
"No, boy," said the Colonel sadly. "I could not move. We must wait.
But you are hungry. Were there any rations on the mule?"
"No," said Dick, shaking his head: "they were on the other mule. We
must wait: but I am so hungry. Aren't you?"
"No," said the Colonel sadly, and his eyes wandered round, but he looked
in vain. They were in a wild ravine, and not so much as a berry was in
sight.
"We must wait, Dick," he said at last. "Surely they will come in search
of us soon."
CHAPTER SIX.
The sun shone down hotter and hotter, and all was still but the
twittering of a bird at times. Dick took the blanket he had wrapped
about him overnight and spread it over two pieces of rock so as to form
a screen, propping it a little with a broken bough or two. So long as
he was busy doing little things for the Colonel, Dick did not seem to
mind so much, but just when the sun was highest and it was hotter than
ever in the valley, the poor Colonel grew more feverish. He asked for
water often, and then all at once the boy felt frightened, for the
wounded man began to talk and mutter wildly: then he began to shout to
his men to come on and charge, and at last poor Dick broke down.
Hunger, misery, loneliness and the heat, were too much for him: the wild
nature of the Colonel's words, and his fierce look when he felt for and
waved his sword, making the little fellow shrink away and go and sit
behind a stone, his head aching, and the terrible solitude there amongst
the mountains seeming more than he could bear.
But as the evening came on and a soft breeze sprang up, a change came
over the wounded man, and Dick heard himself called.
He crept back to the Colonel's side, and the wounded man took his hand,
and he said, "Can you be brave and strong?"
"No, sir," faltered the boy, with his lip quivering, "but I'll try to
be."
"That is being brave, my boy. Now look here, I have been asleep, and
dreaming wild things, but I am cool and calm now. Listen to me. You
are faint and hungry, and you must not stay here any longer. You must
go."
"But I can't leave you all alone, sir."
"You must, my boy. Here is what I want you to do. Throw the blanket
over me and fill the tin with water."
The boy did this and felt better, for it kept off the feeling of misery.
"That is good," said the Colonel. "Now start off at once down the
valley, and if you see any of the
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