He had now shaken off the numbness caused by the blow that he had received, and he managed to stagger to where Dick was lying, and knelt beside him and begged the Malays to bring water. They had evidently received orders to do all they could to revive the two young officers, and one at once brought half a gourd full. Harry had already assured himself that his friend's heart still beat. He began by pouring some water between his lips. It was not necessary to pour any over his head, for he had already received the same treatment as himself.
“Dick, old chap,” he said sharply and earnestly.
The sound was evidently heard and understood, for Dick started slightly, opened his eyes and murmured, “It's not time to turn out yet?”
“You are not in your hammock, Dick; you have been wounded, and we are both prisoners in the hands of these Malays. Try and pull yourself together, but don't move; they have put a sort of bandage round your shoulder, and I am going to try and improve it.”
“What is the matter with my shoulder?” Dick murmured.
“Chopped with a kris, old man. Now I am going to turn you on your side, and then cut the sleeve off the jacket. Take another drink of water; then we will set about it.”
Dick did as he was ordered, and was evidently coming back to consciousness, for he looked round, and then said, “Where are the other fellows?”
“I don't know what has become of them. I think I went down before you did. However, here we are alone. Now I am going to begin.”
He cut off the sleeve of the jacket and shirt at the shoulder, ripped open the seam to the neck, first taking off the rough bandage.
“It's a nasty cut, old man,” he said, “but nothing dangerous, I should say. I fancy it has gone clean through the shoulder bone, and there is no doubt that it will knit again, as Hassan's did, if they do but give you time.”