Several were wounded, but none mortally. Colonel Proctor was one of the most severely hurt; he had fought bravely, and was carried with the other wounded into the station, where he was attended to as well as the circumstances admitted of.
Mrs. Aouda was safe, and Phileas Fogg, who had been in the midst of the fight, had not received a scratch. Fix had a flesh-wound in the arm, but Passe-partout was missing, and Aouda could not help weeping. Meanwhile the travellers all got out of the train, the wheels of which were covered with blood and jagged pieces of flesh. Red tracks were visible on the whitened plain. The Indians were disappearing in the south along the Republican River.
Mr. Fogg was standing motionless with folded arms, and Aouda looked at him without speaking, but he understood her; he had to make up his mind. If his servant were a prisoner, ought he not to rescue him from the Indians?
"I will find him, living or dead," he said simply to Aouda.
"Oh Mr. Fogg!" exclaimed the young lady, seizing his hands, upon which her tears fell fast.
"Living," added Mr. Fogg, "if we lose no time."
By this resolution Phileas Fogg sacrificed everything, he pronounced his own ruin. A delay of even one day would lose the steamer at New York and his wager. But he thought it was his duty, and did not hesitate.
The commandant of Fort Kearney was present; his company were under arms to repel any further attack.
"Sir," said Mr. Fogg to him, "three passengers are missing."
"Dead?" asked the captain.