I could have fallen down and worshipped the man. He went to the house that had been allotted to him, and presently returned with some bandages and a sponge.
When we re-entered the house Zolca had recovered from his faint, which had been caused by loss of blood. His first question was as to the fate of Paul, and he listened with satisfaction to the manner of his death.
The sailor now proceeded to examine the wound, and I told Zolca to lie still without speaking. Although the man’s hands were rough and hard, he seemed to understand what he was about. The blood had been soaking through the rough bandages I had applied, but after he had strapped it up in a more skilful manner this stopped, and I felt much relieved.
I then went out to see to the burial of Paul’s body, but the sailor told me that the Quadrucos had almost hacked it to pieces, and then taken it to the beach. Going down there I found a number assembled, watching the bay, and learned that they had taken the mangled corpse out and thrown it to the sharks. That was the end of Paul, after escaping death in a hundred shapes.
Now commenced a rather trying time. Zolca’s wound healed but slowly, and he himself pined at the inaction of a sick-bed.
Meanwhile there was plenty of work to be done. The gunner proved a blessing indeed, not only did he do the work Hoogstraaten had left him to do, but he attended to the others who had been wounded in the fight, and I ever found him a worthy, honest man.
The Quadrucos soon got their spirits back; the drill at the guns and the work of restoring their houses banished thought from them, and the place soon began to assume something of its old look before war had desolated it.
For me it was different; the sickness of Zolca, and the consequent depression of my wife, affected me greatly, added to which I could not forget the death of my old companion, Paul; for, no matter what his sins had been, we had been comrades together through years of wandering in a desert and unknown land, and I could not forget it.
The gunner had one gun planted on the headland which commanded the entrance, the other on an elevation from whence any ship, escaping the first battery, could be safely bombarded. I think he prayed that a junk might turn up, and, strange to say, his prayer was answered. He was a burly fellow of the name of Hessel, and I am sure that he thoroughly enjoyed his life amongst the Quadrucos, about fifty of whom he had drilled into good musketry-men.
A watch was kept on the headland, day and night, for the return of Hoogstraaten, and one night a light was seen to the northward. This, of course, could not be the discovery-ships, and when the news was brought to me I went and woke Hessel the gunner. He chuckled at the news.