's nothing like trouble for making a man know what a deal of good
there is in human nature. You're a good fellow, doctor. Hang it, man,
you've made me feel as soft as a girl!"

He turned away his face, that staunch, brave soldier, for a few moments,
and then the weakness was past, and he turned sharply round to the
doctor.

"Now," he said, "you shall see what stuff our soldiers and sailors are
made of. Come here."

He led the doctor back to the rear, where the guard, sun-blackened,
haggard fellows, with their clothes hanging in rags from the thorns,
were on the watch, and this being out of earshot of the sick and
wounded, who were all ranged side by side beneath a couple of shady
spreading trees, he gave the order for the men to fall in, when, with
the precision that they would have shown upon a parade ground, the
soldiers fell in, making one line; the sailors another in the rear.

"Face inwards!" cried the major, and he turned first to the sailors.
"My lads," he said, "your officers being all down, the duty of
commanding you has fallen upon me, and I thank you for the ready way in
which you have obeyed my orders. You have been as willing and as trusty
as my own boys here, and that is saying a great deal."

There was a little shuffling of feet at this, and the men looked
uncomfortable.

"I am sorry to say," continued the major, "that matters have come to
such a grievous pass with us, that I have to make a statement, to which
I want to hear your reply. I have no occasion to speak to you, for I
know that you will to a man obey my orders to the last; but I want to
hear what you will say."

There was a pause here, and then the major went on,--

"Matters have come to this, my lads, that I see you can stagger on no
longer with the loads you have to bear. In fact, two more poor fellows
are down, and it will take every fighting man to carry the others. So I
have been talking the matter over with the doctor, and it has come to
this, that our only chance is to leave the sick and wounded, and push
on, make for the river, in the hope of getting help, and coming back to
save them. What do you say?"

"Lord love you, sir," cried one of the sailors, "why, afore to-night
them niggers would have sarved every one of our poor mates like the
doctor, there, sarves the black beadles and butterflies--stuck a pin or
a kris through 'em."

It was a grim subject to jest upon, and it was a serious thing; but
there was a roar of