"Allow me to help you up—take my arm. I am strong; so lean as heavily as you like. There, you are all right. Your rifle will serve you as a staff."
Thanks to the assistance of the young man, the American contrived to stand on his legs, making horrible grimaces and groaning all the time.
"I wish my brother had been anywhere, with his mad notion of emigration," he said, grumbling; "but that is not the immediate question. Will you answer me?"
"I am quite ready. You cannot carry the deer—shall I hang it up in safety until you send for it?"
"Will you answer me?" cried Samuel, ferociously.
"You have not yet asked me any question," said the young man, gently.
The American looked at him with considerable anger in his glance; then his muscles relaxing, he burst out laughing.
"Forgive me, George," he said, offering his hand. "I am an old fool. I am trying to get up a quarrel with you, instead of thanking you for your kindness. In truth, I believe you have saved my life."
"You exaggerate, Mr. Samuel," replied the other.
"Between you and me, I don't think so. What would have become of me, fainting in the desert?"