Never did Dr. Goldbeck have a more arduous task, but with medicine chest at his side, and two able assistants to carry out his instructions, he toiled unceasingly for hours.
Then success crowned his efforts, and the patients came slowly back to consciousness. For nearly a week they hovered between life and death, but finally all were pronounced out of danger except Bildad, who was struggling in a high fever.
At first they knew nothing, could remember nothing, but gradually memory returned, and they realized the full measure of their wonderful escape.
Guy was the first to rally, and Sir Arthur was the last, but ten days after their rescue all were able to sit up, and after that they gained strength rapidly.
The marvelous tale of their adventures was discussed over and over with their new friends—for most of the Englishmen could speak German—and from Captain Becker they learned the latest news from Zaila, which was to the effect that the place had been retaken by the English after a brief but desperate struggle. This information had been brought to the station by a German gunboat six weeks before.
Guy was very curious to know how far they had drifted down the Juba before they were rescued, but of course it was impossible to tell.
“It’s my opinion,” said Captain Becker, “that the exit from that underground river is somewhere in the vicinity of the big falls, fifty miles above here. I have heard that there are caverns along the bank from which the water pours furiously.”
“That is probably the place, then,” returned Guy, “for the bushes hung so low that they dragged the canoe from the raft and tore the skin from my face. I have a dim recollection of all that, but I remember nothing more.”
Guy’s companions, however, could not remember even this. The struggle with Bildad was the last tangible recollection. After that all was a blank. Although they had regained a fair share of strength, the awful experiences of the cruise down the underground river had left indelible traces of suffering. Colonel Carrington’s hair had turned white, and even Chutney and Forbes had gray locks sprinkled through their dark ones. Their faces were hollow, their bodies lean and emaciated, and, in fact, they were changed beyond all power of recognition. Contrary to expectation, Bildad was now also convalescent.
As soon as their recovery was assured, Captain Becker had very courteously sent to the chief station on the Durnford River, some miles south of the Juba, to obtain, if possible, a steamer; and one morning, four weeks after their arrival at New Potsdam, a noble vessel steamed up the river and anchored before the station.