"You are very good, sahib, but I think it will be of no use."
"Oh, I hope it will! So now, give me your turban. I will wrap it tightly round your leg, for the bleeding must be stopped. I see you have lost a great deal of blood, already."
He bandaged the wound as well as he could, and then he said:
"I will take your sword bayonet with me. It can be of no use to you and, if I do happen to meet a native upon the road, it may come in very handy."
"The blessing of the Great One be upon you, sahib, and take you safely to camp. As for myself, I think that my race is run."
"You must not think that," Lisle said, cheerily; "you must lie very quiet, and make up your mind that, as soon as it is possible, we shall be back here for you;" and then, without any more talk, he made his way to the edge of the path.
There he made a long gash on the bark of a tree and, fifty yards farther, he made two similar gashes. Then, certain that he could find the place on his return, he went off at a trot along the path.
It was eight o'clock in the evening before he reached camp. On the way, he had met with nothing that betokened danger; there had been no voices in the woods. When about halfway to camp, he came across a number of dead bodies on the path and, looking into the bush, found many more scattered about. It was evident that the little British force had turned upon their assailants, and had effected a crushing defeat upon them.
He was hailed by a sentry as he approached the camp but, upon his reply, was allowed to pass. As he came to the light of a fire, round which the white officers were sitting, there was a general shout of surprise and pleasure.
"Is it you or your ghost, Bullen?" the commanding officer exclaimed, as all leapt to their feet.