“Yes; Bixby just told the story.”
“Well, I must have lain there for a long time unconscious; for when I went down the sun was still shining, and when I came to all was dark.”
“And you were not hurt?”
“Indeed I was. My left ankle was broken, and something was wrong in my chest, not to say anything of the scratches I received, which covered my face and hands with blood.”
“And how did you escape?”
“It is a long story. When I regained consciousness, I could not walk; and it was hard work to crawl to the water to get a drink and bathe my ankle. I tried to call out; but the pain was too great in my chest.”
“And you were all alone?”
“Yes; and for three days. The pain was something terrible; and that, added to the loneliness of my position, gave me a fever, and I lost my mind.”
“And who rescued you?”
“A hunter named Thompson, and two others. They told me two weeks after, when I was recovering, that they had found me delirious near their camp, and had taken me in and sent off for a doctor. They could not find out who I was, and had done the best they could for me.”