And Smith laughed with a thin, dry laugh, and bending down, he kissed the Baker upon the low forehead, which held a faithful little soul now in the valley of the shadow of a horrible death.
Then Smith shook him.
"Rouse up, Baker."
And Mandeville drew back his mind to the bitter earth.
"Yes, old man."
"There may be water within reach, Baker. Now, listen and get hold of it. I'm going to look for water. If I don't come back, we're done. Do you understand?"
The Baker nodded, looking wistfully at his mate. Smith stooped and kissed him again. And the Baker smiled, as Smith went off towards the thicker timber.
CHAPTER V.
LOOKING FOR WATER.
Smith, whose throat was dry, and whose tongue was half-blackened, stumbled on for a hundred yards before he thought of taking his bearings. For now in a country of scanty timber, which only gradually grew denser, one part was terribly like another. He returned to the tree, and, getting his tomahawk, blazed his way for nearly a mile. And though the trees were thicker, he saw no sign of water, and few signs of life beyond swarms of ants and some native bees.