"No, no, I won't," said Billjim; "I'm going with you;" and go she did, of course, holding Jack's hand all the way, and administering small doses of brandy whenever she was ordered. "La Vivandière," as Frenchy remarked, sotto voce, "but with a heart! Grand Dieu, with what a heart!"
It was a great sight to see that gallant little band carrying twelve stone of helpless humanity in the moonlight.
Through scrub, over rocks and gullies, and through weird white gum forest, and no sound but the laboured breathing of the bearers. There were twelve of them, and they carried four and four about, those fifteen miles.
Never a groan out of the poor fellow up aloft there, though he must have suffered agonies when any one stumbled, which was bound to occur pretty often in that dim light.
Slowly but surely they covered the distance, and just as day began to dawn they reached the doctor's house at Clagton.
In a very little time Jack was lying on a couch in the surgery.
After some questions the doctor said:
"Too weak. Can't do anything just now."
"It's a case, I suppose?" asked Frenchy.
"Yes," said the doctor; "amputation, of course, and I have no one here to help me. Stay, though! Who bandaged him?"