But there was no sign of their approach. The night was coming on fast, and a faint star or two became visible, while the granite kopje rose up, softly rounded in the evening light, with a faint glow appearing from behind it, just as if the moon were beginning to rise there.
He waited and waited till it was perfectly plain that the man could not be coming from fetching water, and, startled at this, he shouted, and then hurriedly looked about in the various buildings, but only to find them empty.
Startled now, more than he cared to own to himself, Dyke ran back to the Kaffir’s lodge, and looked in again. There were no assegais leaning against the wall, nothing visible there whatever, and half-stunned by the thought which had come upon him with terrible violence, the boy went slowly back to the house, and sat down by where Duke was watching the sleeping man.
“Alone! alone!” muttered Dyke with a groan; “they have gone and left us. Joe, Joe, old man, can’t you speak to me? We are forsaken. Speak to me, for I cannot even think now. What shall I do?”
Chapter Twenty One.
Dyke sets his Teeth.
No answer came from the couch where Emson lay exhausted by his last periodical paroxysm of fever. The dog whined softly, and in his way unintentionally comforted his master by comforting himself. That is to say, eager for human company, he crept closer, so that he could nestle his head against him, and be in touch.
That touch was pleasant, and it made Dyke pass his arm round the dog’s neck and draw him nearer, Duke responding with a whine of satisfaction, followed by a sound strongly resembling a grunt, as he settled himself down, just as the answer came to the lad’s question, “What shall I do!”