Fisher major’s blood ran cold as he saw it. For at the head stalked a stalwart guide, who carried in his arms one small boy, while in the rear followed a form which they recognised as Rollitt’s carrying on his back another. Between the two tramped a third junior, hanging on to the arm of another guide.
What terrified Fisher major more than anything was to see that the head of the boy on Rollitt’s back had fallen helplessly forward on the shoulder of his porter.
With a groan the elder brother bounded to the spot. The history of years flashed through his mind as he did so. He saw the people at home and heard their voices. He seemed to be in the nursery, hectoring it, as big brothers will, among the little ones, amongst whom was a little boy with curly hair and a shrill piping voice. He called to mind the first-night of this term, and the vision of his young brother breaking down with his new-boy troubles next morning. All this and more fleeted through his mind as he bounded to where Rollitt stood.
“Hush!” said the latter, almost gruffly. “Asleep.”
So he was. It had scarcely roused him when Rollitt had picked him up two hours ago from his roost under the rocking-stone. And having once been perched on his preserver’s back his head fell forward again, and there it had lain ever since. How Rollitt had carried him so far, resting only now and then, and that in a way not to disturb his burden, only those who knew the huge strength of the Fellsgarth giant could understand.
“Hullo,” said Wally, greeting the new-comers in a limp, sleepy way, “have you seen my young brother Percy? He was—”
“Yes—Percy’s all right; so are all the rest.”
“I’m all right,” sang out Ashby from the front. “This chap wanted to carry me, so I let him.”
“Jolly glad you were to get the lift,” said Wally. “You new kids oughtn’t to have come. Twenty-four hours on the hills is nothing when you get used to—”
Here Wally (who had had twenty-six hours) suddenly collapsed and tumbled over from sheer fatigue on the grass.