dly
gang, and more against himself.
"I was a fool and a coward," he groaned. "Why didn't I fight for my
life? Great heaven! What shall I do?"
He paused for a moment, meaning to turn back and make an attack upon his
enemies.
But, unarmed as he was, he knew it was madness, and he tramped on
through the darkness in the faint hope of finding help, but with his
heart sinking as he grasped the fact that fate or the management of the
gang had driven him onward farther into the defile, and away from the
aid he might have found if he had made his way back to his morning's
starting-place.
Fully satisfied that death would be his portion, he struggled on
aimlessly till utterly exhausted; and then he paused, breathless, to go
over once more the scene by the glowing fire, and ask himself whether he
had not been to blame for displaying his distrust after the way in which
he had been rescued. But he could only come back to his old way of
thinking--that he had fallen among thieves of the worst type, and that
he owed his life to the prompt way in which he had escaped.
Recovering his breath somewhat, he stood listening as he gazed back
through the darkness; but all was still. There were no signs of
pursuit, so, taking out his handkerchief, he folded it into a bandage,
and with one hand and his teeth contrived to bind and tie it tightly
round his wound so as to stop the bleeding, which was beginning to cause
a strange sensation of faintness.
He had been hot with exertion when he stopped, but now the feeling of
exhilaration caused by his escape died out as rapidly as the heat. A
deadly chill attacked mind and body, for his position seemed crushing.
It was horrible beyond bearing, and for the moment he was ready to throw
himself down in his despair. The intense cold would, he knew, soon
bring on a sensation of drowsiness, which would result in sleep, and
there would be no pain--nothing but rest from which there would be no
awakening; and then--
Then the coward feeling was driven back in a brave effort--a last
struggle for life.
The cold was intense, the darkness thicker than ever, for the sides of
the ravine had been closing in till only a narrow strip of faintly
marked sky was visible, while at every few steps taken slowly the poor
fellow stumbled over some inequality and nearly fell.
At times he struck himself heavily, but he was beyond feeling pain, and
in his desperation these hindrances acted merely as spurs
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