He lay silently for a long time—I thought he slept. I made up the fire, closed the door, lit the lamp, for it was evening, then I sat on the ground beside him, very sorrowful—ay, far more than sorrowful—I was despairing.
A broken leg—no surgeon—no appliances—a fearful journey before us through an Arctic winter, for I knew that at the best many weeks, perhaps months, must elapse before my friend could possibly start homewards, and what could I do alone? I was utterly ignorant about sickness and sick-nursing, and I knew nothing about cooking food suitable for a sick man, even if we had the materials to cook.
There was a long, long silence, only the crackling of the fire in the corner, the sough of the wind amongst the pines outside, or the weird howl of a wolf prowling around our miserable home.
Patch sat upright by the fire, almost motionless. He scarcely shut an eye; he appeared to be full of sad thoughts. Occasionally he turned his head slowly and gazed first at Meade a while, and then at me, and then, as if he too was quite despairing, he gazed long and sorrowfully at the burning wood. Certainly that good dog knew that something terrible had happened to his friends.
CHAPTER V.
It was about midnight before Meade spoke again. He had been lying motionless, though occasionally a low groan escaped him. I thought he had been sleeping, from the effect of the whisky I had given him; however it was not so.
Suddenly, with a cry of anguish, with eyes wide open, pupils dilated, he gazed at me fixedly. "Bertie," he murmured, "the pain has been bearable, but now it is increasing; if I move in the least the agony is dreadful. Inflammation is beginning I suppose, and if something is not done speedily I must die!"
What could I answer? I expect I looked as dismayed as I felt, for he went on, "But don't grieve, my boy, don't you give up; it's a miserable affair, I know, for you as well as for me, but I am not hopeless; no! if you could follow the instructions I can give you I may pull through—I've been thinking it all out."
I was alert instantly. "Everything you tell me I will do," said I; "your every wish I will carry out. I'm an awful muff at anything like this, you know, yet I'll do my best, and God helping us, we may, as you say, pull through."