Gun in hand, he stepped nearer to the gully, and peered searchingly among the brushwood and weeds.
At first he could see nothing, but at last he made out a dark object lying in the midst of a clump of bushes.
“A man, or I am greatly mistaken,” he told himself. “But if he is a white man, what is he doing there?”
Not to be taken by surprise, Joe dropped into the bushes himself, expecting to crawl away and tell his friends of his discovery.
But just as he was on the point of leaving the spot he heard the man below give a prolonged groan.
“Help! help!” he murmured feebly. “For the sake of Heaven, help me!”
“What is the matter with you?” called out the youth.
“An English voice! Heaven be praised. Help me, please!”
“I say, what is the matter with you?” repeated the young pioneer.
“I am badly wounded in the leg. I have been in this dismal hole three days, and I am half starved. Help me!”