“Yes,” said the doctor; “but just where we could find you when we were struggling on and nearly at the last gasp.”
“I don’t understand you, Mr Lee.—Who’s that—Griggs?”
“Yes, it’s me,” said the American, “but I’m feeling pretty thin, my lad, I can tell you. May I shake hands?”
“Why, of course!” cried Ned.
“Come away from him now,” said the doctor in a whisper. “I’m rather troubled about his head.”
“Oh, it don’t ache now,” said Ned sharply, “and things are not going round now. But you said Chris was better?”
“Yes. He’s sleeping under the tent. I kept you here because there is more air.”
“Where are we?” asked Ned anxiously.
“Just in the same spot as when we found you, with the mule broken-down under the heavy load of water.”
“Of course. I remember it all now,” cried Ned excitedly. “I broke down first, and after I got better it was poor old Chris. But he’s all right now?”