I was too close to sprint. Of course I dared not stop. I had time only to mechanically lift on high both feet before I was on and over it. The next moment Diamond's front wheel struck one of the rails, and I was toppling down the embankment.
I was scratched and bruised, my clothes were torn, and I felt (as no doubt I was) pale. But on raising myself my first thought was for the bicycle. It had remained behind. There it was, lying contentedly on the side, with only the saddle and handle-bars showing over the embankment. Another yard further, and we should both have been precipitated over the culvert.
With what anxiety, with what eagerness, did I examine my companion! And what blessings were poured upon it when it proved staunch still—save that the handle-bars had turned a little in the socket. Not until I had taken all this in did it occur to me that I could only limp myself.
Pitch dark now, and no hope of moving on. A little faint, too; yet with no drop to drink. The need to camp; yet no shelter.
But I was callously weary, and without difficulty persuaded myself that I really didn't much care: the morrow would see me somewhere else.
At present I judged we were somewhere about Irrappatana.
* * * *
We moved on at daybreak and reached William Creek before that depot was astir. Depot! Alas, there was no bread here and no flour, and no corn in William Creek! But at the "accommodation house" some dough was standing to rise; it would not be baked, though, till mid-day. My supplications prevailed, however; some of the dough was mixed up into an inedible batter, and cooked with some chops.