“Attention!” cried the major after a few moments, and he spoke as if he was deeply moved. “It is only what I expected from my brave lads; and I may tell you now that this is what Doctor Bolter and I had determined to do—stand together to the last.”
“Only we won’t have any last, my lads,” cried the doctor.
“I hope not,” said the major. “We’ll go on more slowly and take longer rests, for I must have no more of you men down with sickness. Let us hope that we may win our way safely to the ship and the island yet. I would send out a little party to try and fetch help, but I fear they are beset at the residency already, and I do not think a detachment could succeed. I propose then that we all hold together and do our best.”
“That we will, sir,” cried the men, and a voice proposed three cheers for the major.
These were hardly given before he held up his hand, and in a few words thanked them, while the doctor was called away.
“And now, my lads, we will go forward once more, and do the best we can. If we can only get a mile a day it is something, and every man will lend a hand. We will march at once. Yes, doctor? More bad news?”
“Yes,” said Doctor Bolter, bluntly; “our guide has broken down.”
“Broken down?”
“Yes, he is quite delirious.”
“And,” muttered the major, “we are worse than helpless without a guide.”