Before Bob could answer Kernertok pointed down the stream. Bob followed his gesture and saw, some twenty feet from where he was standing, a small object moving slowly through the water.
“It’s Sicum,” he shouted.
“Him got something in him mouth,” Kernertok cried, still pointing.
Bob could see that the dog was tugging at something, and he quickly waded down to meet him.
“He’s got Jack,” he gasped as he reached the struggling dog.
Bob saw at once that his brother was unconscious, and fear that he might be dead gripped his heart as he laid him tenderly down on the sand. Blood was oozing from a cut at the back of the head, and Bob shuddered as he knelt and placed his ear over the heart.
“Don’t tell me that he’s dead,” Rex, who had crossed over some rocks a short distance below the falls, cried as he came running up.
“I—I can’t feel his heart beat,” Bob groaned, as he turned the boy over onto his stomach.
“Him hurt heap bad?” Kernertok panted, as he joined them.
“I’m afraid so,” Bob replied, as he placed his hands beneath Jack’s body and slowly raised him up.