“I never thought of that,” muttered Webster.
Klaas spoke a word to the witch-doctor, and, at the sullen reply, removed a strip of hide in a corner, slipped through a hole, and disappeared.
There was an exclamation from Laura, and she came swiftly in, holding one of the rifles. “Look,” she said, “I have found all our guns and belongings.”
Webster caught the rifle and opened the breech. “Loaded! Ah, now we’re all right.”
Hume sighed heavily.
“Do your eyes pain you still?” she asked gently.
“No; I was thinking of my rifle. If I could only see a little—a very little.”
She looked into his face, and, with a curious thrill, saw that the tears were streaming down his cheeks. She took his hand and patted it.
“I am not weeping,” he said, with a ghost of a smile, “but the treatment of the old woman makes my eyes water.”
“Thank God,” said Webster fervently; and he grasped Hume’s disengaged hand in a warm pressure.