“I’m afraid not,” I said hastily. “The savages have discovered our hiding-place.”
“No!”
“Yes; and one of them was approaching it just now when Jack Penny shot him down.”
“This is very unfortunate! Where? What! close here?”
I had taken his hand to lead him to the clump of bushes where the poor wretch lay, and on parting the boughs and twigs we both started back in horror.
“My boy, what have you done?” cried the doctor, as I stood speechless there by his side. “We have not so many friends that we could afford to kill them.”
But already he was busy, feeling the folly of wasting words, and down upon his knees, to place the head of our friend, the prisoner of the savages, in a more comfortable position before beginning to examine him for his wound.
“Bullet—right through the shoulder!” said the doctor in a short abrupt manner; and as he spoke he rapidly tore up his handkerchief, and plugged and bound the wound, supplementing the handkerchief with a long scarf which he wore round the waist.
“Now, Ti-hi! Jimmy! help me carry him to the cave.”
“Jimmy carry um all ’long right way; put um on Jimmy’s back!” cried my black companion; and this seeming to be no bad way of carrying the wounded man in such a time of emergency, Jimmy stooped down, exasperating me the while by grinning, as if it was good fun, till the sufferer from our mistake was placed upon his back, when he exclaimed: