“Though he is one of those who showed no pity to the poor Indians, we must try what we can do for him,” said my father; and we turned our horses towards him.
As he saw us approach, he mustered all his strength and tried to rise.
“Water, water!” he muttered. “In mercy give me a drop of water!”
It was the cruel officer himself. Still he was a fellow-creature. We had a small portion of water in the flask. We might want it ourselves, but still we could not leave him thus to die. So I dismounted, and approached him with the flask, while my father held my horse, who showed signs of an eagerness to rush on to the oasis we had discovered. The officer, when he saw the flask, would have seized it, and drained off the whole of its contents; but I held it back, and pouring out a few drops in the cover, let them trickle down his throat. I thought of what Ithulpo had said of water being of more value often than gold. Truly those drops were more precious to the dying man; they had the effect of instantly reviving him. Brightness came back to his glazed eyes, his voice returned, and he was able to sit up, and even to make an attempt to rise on his feet; but to do so was more than his strength would allow.
“Give me more water or I shall die,” he said as he saw me replacing the flask in my pocket. “My rascally troopers have deserted me, to try and save their own worthless lives, and I have only you foreigners to depend on.”
“I cannot give you more water,” I answered. “I have but a few drops left to moisten my father’s and my own lips.”
“O leave them for me. I will give you your liberty, I will give you all I possess in the world, for that small flask of water,” he exclaimed. “You will not require it, for beneath yonder trees, in the distance, you will find a fountain where you may drink your fill. Have mercy, stranger, have mercy!”
It was difficult to withstand the poor wretch’s earnest appeal. I poured out a little more water, which he drank off at once. I then gave him a small lump of cocoa; and scraping up a heap of sand, I placed him leaning against it, so that he might feel any breath of air which might blow; promising faithfully to return to bring him to the oasis, if we were fortunate enough to reach it in safety.
“But the voracious condors and the lions will come and destroy me, if I remain here during the night alone,” he shrieked out. “O take me with you, generous Englishman, take me with you!”
To do this was utterly impossible. My horse could scarcely carry me, much less another person in addition.