“I was right,” I said to myself with a feeling of satisfaction. “I was right the first time. It is the doctor, and he ought to have come to my help when I was so bad.”
Two days, three days passed, during which I lay and watched the birds that flitted by, saw the people as they came and went, and from time to time uttered a signal whistle; but this had to be stopped, for on the afternoon of the third day a very tall savage entered hurriedly in company with my guard and half a dozen more, and by signs informed me that if I made signals again my life would be taken.
It was very easy to understand, for spears were pointed at me and war-clubs tapped me not very lightly upon the head.
As soon as I was left alone I sat thinking, and before long came to the conclusion that this was probably the reason why I had not heard any signal from Jimmy, who had perhaps been obstinate, and consequently had been treated with greater severity.
I longed for the night to come that I might have some fresh message from the doctor, but somehow I could not keep awake, anxious as I was, and I was sleeping soundly when a touch awoke me with a start.
I threw up my hands to catch Gyp by the collar, but to my consternation I touched a hand and arm in the darkness, and there was something so peculiar in the touch, my hand seeming to rest on raised lines of paint, that I turned cold, for I knew that one of the savages was bending over me, and I felt that it must mean that my time had come.
I should have called out, but a hand was laid over my lips and an arm pressed my chest, as a voice whispered in good English:
“Run, escape! You can’t stay here!”
“Who is it?” I whispered back, trembling with excitement. “I know!” I added quickly; “you are the tall savage—the doctor!”
“Yes—yes!” he said in a low dreamy tone. “The tall savage! Yes—tall savage!”