“Yes,” he said, with a smile; “thanks, lad. First aid, and—here! Water, some one. Ugh! I feel sick as a dog.”
I caught hold of him and saved him from falling by lowering him down upon a stone, just as there was the soft pad, pad of naked feet behind me, and a familiar voice said:
“Water, Boss. Here water, sah!”
“Joeboy!” I whispered as I turned and caught a waterbottle from an extended black hand. “You here!”
“Um? Yes, Boss Val. Couldn’t run no more, and come away back.”
I handed the water to the Colonel, who drank with avidity; then I tightly bound up the cut on his leg, for he impatiently refused to have it examined by one of the officers who had hurried up; and then, as soon as I was at liberty, I turned to the black.
“Have you seen the Lieutenant, Joeboy?” I said excitedly.
“Um? Boss Denham!” he replied. “No; all a rush and gallop. Lost Boss Denham. Lost Boss Val. Lost ebberybody. Joeboy said, ‘All come back to water. Boss Denham come soon.’”
“I pray to Heaven he may!” I said sadly; but I had my doubts.