“But I want to talk about it a bit; and then I am hungry, but I don’t feel as if I could eat salt meat.”
“A little fish?” said Syd, eagerly.
“Ah! the very thing.”
“Wait a minute,” cried Syd, and running out, he gave orders to one of the men for one of the fish to be cooked for the invalid.
“Fish, eh?” said Mr Dallas, when Syd returned.
“Yes, sir; I’ve been—we’ve been fishing this morning, and caught a good many.”
“That’s right, but the men must not idle; I want to give some instructions to you about getting up that gun.”
“Hadn’t you better lie still and let me talk to you?” said Syd, smiling.
“No, my boy; I must not give up, in spite of being weak. It was very unfortunate—my accident yesterday. It was yesterday, wasn’t it—not to-day?”
“No; not to-day.”