y fought like men, sir, and I hope we all did; but they were too
much for us, and if it hadn't been for our two black fellows I don't
believe Dan and me would have got you two young gents out of it."

"Ah, then," cried Mark, "you got us away?"

"That's right, sir; but it was close work, and it was big Mak kept the
brutes off while Dan carried you, and I got Mr Dean up on my back while
the little Pig showed us the way through the darkness."

"Then--then--" cried Mark passionately. "You--two--two strong men came
away and left my father and the doctor in the hands of those wretches!
Oh, cowards! Cowards! Cowards! How could you! How could you! How--"

The boy fainted.

CHAPTER FORTY TWO.

A VAIN APPEAL.

It was one morning when Mark lay fairly collected and able to talk, and
the first objects his eyes lit upon were the two blacks seated together
busy crushing up some succulent leaves, which they worked between a
couple of stones till they had formed them into a thick green paste.
This done, the little fellow brought other leaves, covered one with the
green paste, and then as Mark watched him he placed this
woodland-plaster on the fleshy part of his companion's leg and secured
it in its place with some long, grassy, fibrous growth which Mak had
chewed and twisted into a kind of string.

This done, the black lay upon one side with his teeth at work preparing
some more rough bandage, while the pigmy formed another plaster, which
was in turn secured to the black's left arm.

As Mark lay there feeling too helpless and weary to move, he watched in
turn the surgical applications of the pigmy, as he attended to bad cuts
that had been suffered by Buck Denham and Dan.

Mark did not know it then, during those next few days, but he realised
afterwards that it was due to sheer weakness that with the knowledge of
the terrible defeat, and that his father and friends were either killed
or taken prisoners, he could lie there so calmly watching what was going
on.

There was much to see in the coming and going of the two blacks, who
brought the food and the water they drank, while Buck Denham and Dan,
badly as they were hurt, never wearied in their attentions. His cousin
too was constantly at his side, ready to attend to every wish. At other
times he sat gazing at him with an imploring expression of countenance
as if begging not to be reproached for a catastrophe that he laid upon
his own shoulders.

"Who'd have tho