George opened his eyes, raised himself, and made a sort of spring upon his companion’s shoulder, and then laid his head down, clinging with all his remaining strength. Arnall used all the speed he could with so heavy a burden, and was comforted by finding that either the air or the motion seemed to rouse the poor patient, who appeared better able to keep his hold, and even spoke from time to time.
“Mr. Arnall!” said he.
“Well, George.”
“There is a thing I want to tell you about making arrows. Bring me a reed when you put me down, and I will shew you how the natives barb them. I meant to have made the first myself, but as I can’t, I will teach you.”
“Thank you: but do not tire yourself with talking.”
After a while, however, George began again.
“Do you know, Mr. Arnall, I think when the crops are got in, and the houses built, and some cattle in the fields again, you will have the Bushmen down upon you some night?”
“Well, we have sent for arms and powder from Cape Town.”
“I know: but they will be of no use if every body is asleep. I meant to ask to be a watchman with as many as would join me, and to take it in turn, three or four every night. I wish you would see it done, and have all the boys taught to fire a gun.”
Arnall promised, and again urged him to be silent.