"I'm dog-tired," I said, weakly, making an effort to walk; but my knees had no strength in them, and I must have fallen except for his support.
Up, up, up we passed through the foggy moonlight, he almost dragging me, and my feet a-trail behind. However, when we reached the plateau, I made out to stumble along with his aid, though I let him relieve me of my rifle, which he shouldered with his own.
After a minute or two I smelled the camp-fire, but could not see it. Even in the darkest night a fire amid great trees is not visible at any considerable distance.
My big companion, striding along beside me, had been constantly muttering under his breath, and presently I distinguished the words he was singing:
—"One shoe off, one shoe on,
Diddle diddle dumpling, my son John—"
"I know you," I said, abruptly.
He dropped his song and glanced around at me.
"Oh, you do, eh? Well, I mean to know you, too, so don't worry, young man."
"I won't," said I, scarcely able to speak.