With a single bound the major was at his side.
"Good God! It's unbelievable!" he gasped.
He stared in horror at the dry lips, the swollen black tongue. In the space of seconds the hard young man was a limp scarecrow whose lips cracked and moved in a dry-as-dust whisper. The major bent his ear close to the withered mouth, listening.
"Water." The words were faint in his ear. "For heaven's sake—water."
The major reached up and lifted the big pitcher of cool water off the sidetable. "Here, colonel, drink. Here's all the water you could want."
But already, it was too late.