Two miles is not far, and it was probably not more than that from the place where the boys slept, or rather where they passed the night, on the mountain, down to the bottom of the gorge. Moreover, the goal was in plain view, and every step was down hill. But to Sidney, who was nearly at the point of collapse, and who was burdened with his almost insensible brother, the distance over the rocky, broken ground seemed interminable.
The boys stumbled along, Sidney dragging his brother and sometimes falling and picking himself up with difficulty. Raymond, too, frequently fell over rocks and into holes, and was pulled up by his companion. Each time that happened it became increasingly difficult to put the boy on his feet again.
Hours, it seemed to Sidney, passed in the endless struggle. Finally, however, they reached a point where the descent became abruptly much steeper, the last nearly a perpendicular drop to the bottom of the gorge. That was the hardest stretch of all. Down that declivity Sidney went first, supporting his brother’s weight on his shoulders. It was but little better than carrying an inert body, and the boy trembled with the strain. But it came to an end, and with his nearly inanimate burden he dropped on the sand at the bottom of the cliff.
Sidney lay there panting, his parched nostrils unable properly to admit air to his lungs, and his mouth and throat so swollen and dry that but little aid was possible that way. For a few moments he nearly lost consciousness; then came a remembrance of the salvation that was so near, and he struggled to his feet and staggered the few yards to the little stream. Throwing himself on the ground, with his scooped hand he dashed water into his mouth and over his face.
Oh, the blessed, indescribable relief that moisture gave! But with the return of reason that it brought came the memory of his brother, and with an almost superhuman effort of self-restraint, Sidney dipped up water in his hat and went back to Raymond. Kneeling by the unconscious boy’s side, he plunged his hand into the water and dripped the life-giving fluid into Raymond’s mouth and over his face. Occasionally he allowed himself the luxury of a sip, but he resolutely refused to allow his own desire to interfere with his ministry to his brother, until Raymond began to stir and opened his eyes.
CHAPTER XII
RESTING
The return of the boys to anything like a normal condition was very slow, though Sidney had the courage and good sense to parcel out the water, both to himself and to Raymond. He allowed his brother to take only a swallow or two at intervals, and he restrained himself in the same way. At first it required a self-control that was almost beyond his strength, but as they absorbed the restoring fluid their ravening, consuming appetite decreased, and it became a joy, instead of a tantalizing torture, to sip the water slowly. Presently, too, as their mouths and throats became softened they were able to talk, if not with ease, at least with little difficulty.
“That was as near as I want to come to passing in my checks, Sid,” said Raymond as they lay on the sand below the cañon wall.
“Yes, it was quite close enough.”