"I coom pull you out," said the Frenchman, fumbling at the buckle of his belt, and he forthwith stepped into the water.
He waded swiftly to within five feet of the sinking man, and flung him the end of the belt. Mills failed to catch it, and the Frenchman shifted his feet cautiously and flung again.
"Now," he shouted as the trader gripped it, "catch 'old tight," and he started to drag him bodily forwards.
"Careful," cried Mills; "you're sinking!"
The Frenchman stepped free hastily, and strained on the belt again.
Mills endeavored to kick with his entombed legs, and called a warning
as his rescuer sunk in the sands. Thus they wrestled, and at length
Mills found his head in the water and his body free.
He rose, and they waded to the bank.
"Of all the quicksands I ever saw," said the trader slowly, as he sat down and gazed at the place that had so nearly been his grave, "that one's the worst."
"'Orrid," agreed the Frenchman, smiling amicably. "You was ver' near buried, eh?"
"Yes," said the trader thoughtfully. "I suppose anyone 'ud say you saved my life, Frenchy."
"Yea," replied the other.