CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
DYKE SETS HIS TEETH.
No answer came from the couch where Emson lay exhausted by his lastperiodical paroxysm of fever. The dog whined softly, and in his wayunintentionally comforted his master by comforting himself. That is tosay, eager for human company, he crept closer, so that he could nestlehis head against him, and be in touch.
That touch was pleasant, and it made Dyke pass his arm round the dog'sneck and draw him nearer, Duke responding with a whine of satisfaction,followed by a sound strongly resembling a grunt, as he settled himselfdown, just as the answer came to the lad's question, "What shall I do!"
It was Nature who answered in her grand, wise way, and it was as if shesaid:
"There is only one thing you can do, my poor, heartsore, weary one:sleep. Rest, and gain strength for the fight to come."
And in the silence and gathering darkness a calm, sweet insensibility toall his troubles stole over Dyke; he sank lower and lower till his headrested against the skins, and the coarse, sack-like pillow, formed ofrough, unsaleable ostrich-feathers; and it was not until twelve hoursafter that he moved, or felt that there was a world in which he occupieda place, with stern work cut out for him to achieve.
It was the touch of something cold upon his cheek that roused thesleeper, and that something cold was the dog's nose.
Dyke did not start; he merely opened his eyes quietly, and looked up atthose gazing at him, and, thoroughly comforted and rested, he smiled inthe dog's face.
"Get out, you old rascal," he said. "You know you've no business to dothat."
Duke uttered a satisfied bark, and then began to caper about the room toshow his delight at the solemn silence of the place being broken; butstopped directly, and made for the door in alarm, so sudden was thespring his master made to his feet--so wild and angry the cry the boyuttered as he bent over the bed.
For full consciousness had returned like a flash, and as he cried, "I'vebeen asleep! I've been asleep!" he gazed down at his brother, horrifiedat the thought of what might have happened, and full of self-reproachfor what he felt to have been his cruel neglect.
But Emson was just as he had seen him last--even his hands were exactlyas they had lain in the darkness the previous night--and when Dykeplaced his hand upon the poor fellow's head, it felt fairly cool andmoist.
Dyke's spirits rose a little at this, but his self-reproach was as greatas ever.
"Oh!" he muttered angrily, "and I pretend to care for him, and promisehim that I will not leave him, and go right off to sleep like that.Why, he might have died, and I never have moved.--Here, Duke!"
The dog sprang to him with a bound, raised himself, and placed his pawsupon his master's breast, threw back his head, opened his wide jaws,lolled out his tongue, and panted as if after a long run.
"Here, look at me, old chap, and see what a lazy, thoughtless brute Iam."
But Duke only shook his head from side to side, and uttered a low whine,followed by a bark.
"There: down! Oh, how could I sleep like that?"
But by degrees it was forced upon him that Emson had evidently passed aperfectly calm night, and looked certainly better, and he knew that itwas utterly impossible to live without rest.
He awoke, too, now to the fact that he was ravenously hungry, while theway in which the dog smelt about the place, snuffing at the tin in whichhis master's last mess of bread and milk had been served, and then ranwhining to lap at the water at the bottom of a bucket, spoke plainlyenough of the fact that he was suffering from the same complaint.
At the same time, Dyke was trying to get a firm grasp of his position,and felt half annoyed with himself at the calm way in which he treatedit. For after that long, calm, restful sleep, things did not look halfso bad; the depression of spirit had passed away, his thoughts weredisposed to run cheerfully, and his tendency of feeling was towardmaking the best of things.
"Well," he found himself saying, as he ran over his last night'sdiscovery, "they're only savages! What could one expect? Let them go.And as to its being lonely, why old Robinson Crusoe was a hundred timesworse off; somebody is sure to come along one of those days. I don'tcare: old Joe's better--I'm sure he's better--and if Doctor Dyke don'tpull him through, he's a Dutchman, and well christened Van."
He had one good long look in his patient's face, felt his pulse, andthen his heart beatings; and at last, as if addressing some one who hadspoken depreciatingly of his condition:
"Why, he is better, I'm sure.--Here, Duke: hungry? Come along, oldman."
The dog shot out of the door, giving one deep-toned bark, and Dykehurried to the wagon, opened a sack of meal, poured some into the bottomof a bucket, carried it back to the house, with the dog sniffing abouthim, his mouth watering. Then adding some water to the meal, he beat itinto a stiff paste, and placed about half on a plate, giving the bucketwith the rest to the dog, which attacked it ravenously, and nothesitating about eating a few bits of the cold, sticky stuff himself.
He gave a glance at Emson, and then went to the back, scraped a littlefuel together, lit it, and blew it till it began to glow, hung thekettle over it for the water to boil, and then, closely followed byDuke, ran to feed the horses, just as a low, deep lowing warned him thatthe cows wanted attention.
Fortunately only one was giving much milk, for Dyke's practice in thatway had been very small: it was a work of necessity, though, to relievethe poor beasts, which followed him as he hurried back for a pail, onethat soon after stood half full of warm, new milk, while the soft-eyed,patient beasts went afterwards calmly away to graze.
"Here, who's going to starve?" cried Dyke aloud, with a laugh that was,however, not very mirthful; and then going back to the fire he kneadedup his cake, placed it upon a hot slab of stone, covered it with anearthen pot, swept the embers and fire over the whole, and left it tobake.
His next proceeding was to get the kettle to boil and make some tea, atask necessitating another visit to the wagon stores he had brought fromMorgenstern's, when, for the first time, he noticed that a little sackof meal was missing.
At first he was doubtful, then he felt sure, and jumped at once to thereason. Jack and Tanta Sal must have gone off to join the blacks he hadseen watching, and not gone empty handed.
Dyke's brow wrinkled up for a few moments. Then his face cleared, foran antidote for the disease had suggested itself, one which he feltwould come on in periodical fits.
"Here, Duke," he cried. "Up!"
The dog sprang in at the back of the wagon, and looked inquiringly athim.
"Lie down: watch!"
Duke settled himself upon the wagon floor, laid his outstretched headupon his paws, and stayed there when his master left to go back to thehouse, fetch in the boiling kettle, make tea, and after sweetening halfa basinful and adding a little milk, he took it to his patient's side,raised his head, held it to his lips, and all unconscious though he was,found him ready to drink with avidity, and then sink back with a wearysigh.
"There, old chap," cried Dyke, ignoring the fact that he had not tried,"you couldn't have tipped off a lot of tea like that yesterday. It'sall right: going to get better fast, and give Master Jack such a lickingas he never had before."
Trying to believe this himself, he now thought of his own breakfast,fetched in the hot cake and a tin pannikin of milk, and sat down to thisand some tea.
The first mouthfuls felt as if they would choke him, but the sensationof distaste passed off, and he was soon eating ravenously, ending bytaking Duke a tin of milk for his share, and a piece of the hot bread.
That was a weary morning, what with his patient and the animals aboutthe place. But he had set his teeth hard, and feeling that he mustdepend fully upon himself and succeed, he took a sensible view of hisproceedings, and did what he could to lighten his responsibility, so asto leave him plenty of time for nursing and attending to his invalid.
The first thing was to do something about the horses and cattle; and,feeling that he could n
ot do everything by himself, he at once let allloose to shift for themselves, hoping that they would keep about thelittle desert farm, and not stray away into danger. Horses then andcattle were loosened, to go where they pleased, and the openingsconnecting the ostrich-pens were thrown open to give the great birds asmuch limit for feeding themselves as he could. Then he fetched water inabundance for the house, and loaded and laid ready the three guns andthe rifles, with plenty of cartridges by their sides, but more from ahope that the sight of his armament would have the effect of frighteningKaffirs away when seen, than from any thought of using them as lethalweapons, and destroying life.
Then he was face to face with the difficulty about the wagon. Thesestores ought not to be left where they were, and he felt that he was toomuch worn out to attempt to carry them into the rough-boarded room thatserved as store. He was too much exhausted, and the rest of that day hefelt belonged to his patient.
But a thought struck him, and fetching up a yoke of the oxen which werebrowsing contentedly a half-mile away, Dyke hitched them on to thedissel-boom, and, after some difficulty, managed to get the wagon drawnclose up to the fence, and within a few yards of the door.
"Duke will be there, and I should hear any one who came," he said tohimself, and once more set the oxen free to go lowing back to their poorpasture with the rest of the team, which he had had hard work to keepfrom following him at the first.
And now, tired out with his exertions at a time when the hot sun wasblazing on high, and beginning to feel a bit dispirited, he entered thehouse again, to be cast down as low as ever, for once more Emson wassuffering terribly from the fit, which seemed to come on as nearly ascould be at the same time daily. Dyke knew that he ought to have beenprepared for it, but he was not, for it again took him by surprise, andthe medicine which he administered, and his brother took automatically,seemed to have no effect whatever.
He bathed and applied evaporating bandages to the poor fellow's temples,but the fever had the mastery, and kept it for hours, while Dyke couldat last do nothing but hold the burning hand in his, with despair comingover him, just as the gloom succeeded the setting of the sun.
Then, just as the boy was thinking that no fit had been so long as this,and that Emson was growing far weaker, the heat and alternate shiveringsuddenly ceased, and with a deep sigh he dropped off to sleep.
Dyke sat watching for a time, and then, finding that Emson was gettingcooler and cooler, and the sleep apparently more natural and right, hebegan to think of his plans for the evening. He was determined to keepawake this time, and to do this he felt that he must have company. TheKaffirs were hardly likely to come by night, he felt, and so he wouldnot leave the dog to watch, but going out, called him down out of thewagon, tied down the canvas curtains back and front, fed the dog well,and stood at the door waiting until the faithful beast had finished,watching the while. Then once more he noticed the peculiar light at theback of the kopje, looking as if the moon were rising, though that couldnot be, for there was no moon visible till long after midnight.
But Dyke was too weary to study a question of light or shadow, and assoon as Duke had finished he called the dog in, closed the door, didwhat he could to make poor Emson comfortable, and sat down to pass thenight watching.
But nature said again that he should pass it sleeping, and in a fewminutes, after fighting hard against the sensation of intensedrowsiness, he dropped off fast as on the previous night, but startedinto wakefulness in the intense darkness, and sat up listening to thelow growling of the dog, and a terrible bellowing which came from thepens, where the cattle should be, if they had returned after their manyhours' liberty.
Returned they had for certain, and one of the great, placid beasts wasevidently in a state of agony and fear, while a rushing sound of hoofsclose to where the wagon stood, suggested that the horses and bullockshad taken flight.
The reason was not very far off from the seeker, for all at once, justas the piteous bellowings were at their height, there came the terrificroaring of a lion, evidently close at hand, and this was answered by adeep growling by the cattle-pens, telling that one lion had struck downa bullock, and was being interrupted in his banquet by anotherapproaching near.
Dyke rose, and went to the corner of the room where the loaded riflesstood, then walked softly toward the door to stand peering out, but nota sign of any living creature was visible. In fact, a lion could nothave been seen a couple of yards away, but, all the same, the loudmuttered growlings told plainly enough that both the fierce beasts wereclose at hand.
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