"Well, leave me this and go and get it, old chap. It's more useful than the club."
"Is there time?"
"I think so. They won't know quite what to do. But hurry up. I'll look after your uncle--give him first aid. He ought to go upstairs; by the time you're down again I'll have him ready to move."
"Much hurt, Uncle?" asked Pratt, bending down.
"A furrow ploughed in my forearm; nothing vital. Perhaps one of you will bind up the wound for me."
"I'll do that, sir," said Armstrong. "Cut away, Percy."
CHAPTER XXIV
A LEVY EN MASSE
To lie on one's back, bitted like a horse, trussed like a chicken, with flies and midges disporting themselves, unchecked, about one's features, and ants making adventurous journeys among one's clothes, is a situation that, to say the least of it, puts a strain upon a man's patience and equanimity. It is not greatly eased by the liberty of his eyes when their range is limited by dense overhanging foliage, which stirs in the breeze, opening tantalising glimpses of a sunbright sky.
On his turfy couch Warrender lay, groaning inwardly, cursing himself for delaying his errand, and Fate for bringing his enemies just then upon the scene; vexing his soul with visions of his companions caught unawares, and of Mr. Pratt still chained to his post; blaming himself, with the insight of the afflicted, for having countenanced a scheme that usurped the functions of the officers of the law. A fly feasted on his nose; gnats buzzed in and out of his ears; ants chased one another over his neck and up his arms, causing him to feel one multitudinous and intricate itch.