y; nor even now do I know. We became very tired and hungry; the
hours dragged; we slept at least twice, and then we rose and stumbled
on, always weaker and weaker. There were ages during which the trend
of the corridors was always upward. It was heartbreaking work for
people in the state of exhaustion in which we then were, but we clung
tenaciously to it. We stumbled and fell; we sank through pure physical
inability to retain our feet; but always we managed to rise at last and
go on. At first, wherever it had been possible, we had walked hand in
hand lest we become separated, and later, when I saw that Ajor was
weakening rapidly, we went side by side, I supporting her with an arm
about her waist. I still retained the heavy burden of my armament; but
with the rifle slung to my back, my hands were free. When I too showed
indisputable evidences of exhaustion, Ajor suggested that I lay aside
my arms and ammunition; but I told her that as it would mean certain
death for me to traverse Caspak without them, I might as well take the
chance of dying here in the cave with them, for there was the other
chance that we might find our way to liberty.

There came a time when Ajor could no longer walk, and then it was that
I picked her up in my arms and carried her. She begged me to leave
her, saying that after I found an exit, I could come back and get her;
but she knew, and she knew that I knew, that if ever I did leave her, I
could never find her again. Yet she insisted. Barely had I sufficient
strength to take a score of steps at a time; then I would have to sink
down and rest for five to ten minutes. I don't know what force urged
me on and kept me going in the face of an absolute conviction that my
efforts were utterly futile. I counted us already as good as dead; but
still I dragged myself along until the time came that I could no longer
rise, but could only crawl along a few inches at a time, dragging Ajor
beside me. Her sweet voice, now almost inaudible from weakness,
implored me to abandon her and save myself--she seemed to think only of
me. Of course I couldn't have left her there alone, no matter how much
I might have desired to do so; but the fact of the matter was that I
didn't desire to leave her. What I said to her then came very simply
and naturally to my lips. It couldn't very well have been otherwise, I
imagine, for with death so close, I doubt if people are much inclined
to heroics. "I would rather no