valuables and odds and ends, and soon routed out the medicines, deciding at once upon quinine, and mixing a strong dose of that at once, according to the instructions given upon the bottle.
That given, the boy seated himself upon a box by the bed’s head, asking himself what he ought to do next.
He took Emson’s hand again, and felt his pulse, but it only told him what he knew—that there was a terrible fever raging, and the pulsations were quick and heavy through the burning skin.
A sudden thought struck him now. The place was terribly hot, and he hurriedly opened the little window for the breeze to pass through.
There was an alteration in the temperature at once, but he knew that was not enough, and running to the door, he picked up a bucket, and called for Tanta Sal, who came slowly.
“Baas Joe go die.—Jack?”
She pointed away over the plain, and Dyke nodded.
“Yes, Jack is coming. Go, quick! fetch water.”
The woman understood, and taking the bucket, went off at once towards where the cool spring gurgled among the rocks at the kopje.
The feeling of terrible horror and fear attacked Dyke again directly, and he shrank from going to his brother’s side, lest he should see him pass away to leave him alone there in the desert; but a sensation of shame came to displace the fear. It was selfish, he felt; and with a new thought coming, he went to the back of the door, took down the great heavy scissors with which he and Emson had often operated upon the ostrich-feathers, cutting them off short, and leaving the quill stumps in the birds’ skins, where after a time they withered and fell out, giving place to new plumes. Then kneeling down by the head of the rough bed, he began to shear away the thick close locks of hair from about the sick man’s temples, so that the brain might be relieved of some of the terrible heat.