“I can do no more,” said the doctor, “but I should not have been satisfied if I had not tried. Be careful now how you loosen the ropes.”
There was no difficulty, for the patient lay as still as if it had been utterly stupefied by the poison, and seemed to all appearance stretched out dead.
Chris looked at Griggs, who loosened his noose last, and the man shook his head.
“Could it breathe while that rope was round its neck?” said the boy.
“Breathe? Yes, of course, my lad. The lariat did not press upon the wind-pipe. There’s no strangling in the poor brute’s case. It’s poison’s the matter there. I say, it has wakened us all up.”
It was curious to note the effect to which Griggs had drawn attention. Before the mule was stricken every one in the party had been giddy and ready to faint with heat and exhaustion, oppressed by a sense of despair and the dread that the end of the present journey would never be seen; but as soon as a demand was made upon their energies, all the other troubles seemed to be forgotten on the instant, and they worked together heartily and with wonderful spirit, till they all stood watching the motionless mule.
Bourne was the first to draw attention to the state of affairs, as he began wiping away the perspiration that streamed down his face.
“I don’t think you’ve done the poor brute much good, Lee,” he said.
“I’m afraid not. I ought to have begun sooner.”
“But you’ve done us a lot,” continued Bourne. “Half-an-hour ago I didn’t seem to have an ounce of energy left in me. I felt as if there was nothing to do but lie down and die.”