Then I began to think it was of no use to make any further exertion. Half an hour was already gone; I must in any case turn back in half an hour more. “Oh Leäfar, Leäfar,” I said, and I wrung my hand, “how could you leave us in such misery?” And then I remembered how little Leäfar seemed to think of death in comparison with the doom I had escaped, and I was ashamed of myself, and I said—
“The will of God be done.”
I had crossed the second belt of timber, and I was marking another tree on the east side of it. I was acting quite mechanically and without conscious purpose, for I had made up my mind to return at once, and so I should not need another marked tree. All in a moment I became conscious of this, and I thought that perhaps my mind was going. Then I turned round to look at the plain which I had just entered, and was just about to leave, and, good heavens! there was the wire! This plain was of about the same dimensions as the other two, and right across it ran the telegraph poles.
I just said, “Thank God,” and I ran back as fast as my legs could carry me.
[262] Jack was taking a drink of water, and I thought looking a little brighter. I was quite out of breath, and before I could speak he had time to say—
“Why, Bob, you’ve hardly been away an hour.”
“I have found it!” I cried, “I have found it!”
“Take it easy, man,” he said; “take a drink of water. Didn’t I tell you we were near it?”
We took near two hours to reach it, for we were both weak for want of food, and Jack was ill. Then we sat down under one of the posts and consulted.
“Jack,” said I, “we may die of starvation yet, unless you can cut that wire. I couldn’t climb the pole, poor devil that I am, not to save your life and my own.”