Then for the first time I saw that he was bleeding a little from one side of his head, and this roused me so that I forgot a good deal of my pain; and after feeling my chest and side a little to try and make out where my ribs were broken, and without success, I managed to crawl out of the cot, and got down on my knees by my companion.
“Mr Frewen,” I said; “Mr Frewen,” and I laid my hand on his forehead. “Oh, I say, do, do pray try and speak. Tell me what to do for you.”
There was no reply, and I grew more excited, and as I did, so did my suffering seem to be less, and all my anxiety began to be about him.
“Mr Frewen,” I said. “Can’t you say a word?”
But he made no sign, and, forced by the circumstances to act, I leaned over, turned his head a little more on one side, and found that the hair was all matted together with the blood, which was already drying up.
Then I began to think that the hair ought all to be cut away, the wound bathed and strapped up, and I was about to proceed to do it, when another thought occurred to me.
It was this:—
The bleeding had pretty well stopped, and would, I felt sure, quite stop in a few minutes, so perhaps I should not be acting wisely if I disturbed the injury then, for it might be better if I tried to bring him to his senses, and then he would advise me what to do, and how to do it.
I believe I was in great pain then, but I forgot it for the moment as I looked round and I saw that there was water there, and sponges and towels were close at hand, so without farther hesitation I poured out some of the water into a little basin, and taking a sponge, well bathed his face, after opening the window, for the cabin was suffocating.
I bathed and bathed, and changed the water so as to get it a little cooler, though the rapid evaporation helped me most, and at last, to my great delight, his eyelids began to quiver, and finally he lay there staring at me wildly, and with his face terribly white.