nded entirely unprotected and exposed to a renewed attack by the
savages.

After about an hour's absence Jack came back to me again and gave me
another draught of water, which so greatly refreshed me that the
excitement and uneasiness under which I had been labouring since his
first visit gradually subsided, my aches and pains grew rather more
tolerable; my thoughts grew first more placid and then gradually more
disconnected, wandering away from the present into the past and to more
agreeable themes, my memory of past incidents became confused, and
finally I slept.

I must have slept some three or four hours; for when I awoke it was
undoubtedly afternoon; Hutchinson had completed his gruesome labours and
was sitting not very far away entering some notes in his notebook, and a
few of the less seriously wounded were sitting up partaking of soup or
broth of some kind out of basins, pannikins, or anything of the kind
that came most handy. The sight of these people refreshing themselves
reminded me that I was beginning to feel the need of food, and I called
out to the doctor to ask if I might have something to eat and drink. He
at once rose up and came to me, felt my pulse, looked at my tongue, and
prescribed a small quantity of broth, which Jack Keene presently brought
me, and which I found delicious. I may here mention that several days
later I became aware that this same broth--the origin of which puzzled
me at the moment, though not enough to prevent me from taking it--had
been prepared from a kind of tortoise, the existence of which in large
numbers on the spit Hutchinson had accidentally discovered that very
morning, and in pursuit of which he had sent out two of the most
slightly wounded with a sack, and instructions to catch and bring in as
many of the creatures as they could readily find.

While I was taking my broth the worthy medico stepped to where Nugent
was lying and bent over the poor fellow, feeling his pulse and watching
his white, pain-drawn face. Then, rising softly, he went into a dark
corner of the tent, where, it appeared, his medicine-chest was stowed
away, and quickly prepared a draught, which he brought and held to the
lips of the patient, tenderly raising the head of the latter to enable
him to drink it. Then, having replaced the sufferer's head upon the
makeshift pillow, he bent over and murmured a few words in the dying
man's ear. What they were I know not, nor did I catch Nugent's
respon