Meanwhile the others were taking care of Charles and Will.
Chapter XLIII.
Things Begin to Get Interesting.
Reader, do not turn faint with disgust at these heart-rending details, nor imagine that the writer is a half-reclaimed desparado all the way from “bleeding Kansas;” for this is just as it happened to those hunters in the flesh. But if he ever attempts to narrate a true story again, he will tone it down as well as touch it up.
“Let us be thankful that it is no worse,” Mr. Lawrence said. “We have had a narrow escape; for if Steve’s tube hadn’t exploded immediately, George would certainly have struck his, and then we might all have been hurled into eternity.”
“Do you think Steve will lose his thumb and fingers?” George asked, faintly.
“Oh, I hope not!” Uncle Dick said, fervently. Then dolefully: “I am afraid I shall have a heavy account to settle when I see your parents again.”
Then the sound hunters framed a rude litter, and laid Will on it gently. George and Henry were to take turns with Mr. Lawrence and Marmaduke in carrying him. And then the little procession passed solemnly through the woods, with but little of that sprightliness which had hitherto characterized the party.
“I think this hunt will last me for a lifetime,” Will groaned.
“I am afraid you will feel the effects of your hurt all the rest of your life,” Uncle Dick sorrowfully rejoined.