"Help me! Save me! Stop the horse!" broke in shrill cries from the lips of the terrified man as he was whirled past Gray.
Gray staggered forward and made a clutch at the hanging rein; but he might as well have tried to stop a whirlwind. The horse dashed past him along the ridge, in the path it had traversed before, and then, as before, swerved aside and rushed away into the Bush.
Gray sank back upon the ground, and covered his face with his hands. He could do nothing.
It was not long before he heard the sound of the returning hoofs. He struggled to his feet once more and looked.
The horse was coming back on its path, swaying wildly from side to side, with foaming mouth and staring eyeballs; and this time no terrified, white-faced suppliant was clinging to its back shrieking out to Gray for help. The horse was riderless!
Riderless! But what was that dark lifeless weight hanging by the stirrup, dragged across sand and bramble as the horse staggered on? A sickening, paralysing fear took possession of Gray as he saw and knew. He stood with his eyes fixed upon it unable to move.
The horse staggered on, but not far. It suddenly gave a dreadful cry and fell. There was a struggle, a moan, and then it lay still, as still as the dead body by its side.
Gray drew near, drew close. He looked down upon the face of the man who had deserted him, and attempted to murder him. Then with difficulty he dragged the body from under the horse and straightened it out. The wallet containing the money fell from the shoulders of the dead man as he did so, and opened, showing the gold and notes. Gray did not even look at them. He laid the body out in decent fashion, and covered the dreadful face.
Then he stumbled away across the sands, caring not whither he went, caring only to get away from the spot where the dead man lay. His eyes were burning and throbbing, there was a great singing in his ears. He sank down again. His limbs refused to carry him further. Then came a sudden silence, a great darkness, and he knew no more.