f feet, the shadowy figures of the fierce enemies, the being
crushed together in a contending crowd, the eager cries of familiar
voices, above all that of the doctor, giving orders which in the
confusion could not be obeyed. There were harsh pantings too, blows,
and the rattling made by spears against the barrels of rifles. More
than once there was a raucous cry, and Mark in the wild excitement felt
a strange pain through one arm, before he was trampled beneath the feet
of those who were swaying to and fro fighting desperately.

The last thing that seemed clear to Mark was that everything was coming
to an end and he was nearly unconscious as someone cried piteously, "Oh,
father! Father!"

And then all was dark.

CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

"A BIT OFF HIS HEAD."

But it was not all over. When sense and feeling began to resume their
seats, Mark was lying in the forest shade, dimly conscious that the
sun's rays were striking horizontally through the dark, misty shadows of
some place that he had never seen before.

A dull, heavy pain seemed to be pressing his head into the earth, and a
sickening feeling of confusion troubled him which seemed to take the
shape of one of the glorious golden rays of the sun darting and piercing
him through the shoulder with the agonising pangs that accompanied fire.

Then in his throbbing head there was a question that kept on repeating
itself--that cry he had last heard as of someone calling piteously,
something about his father, and who could it be?

This went on and on for what seemed to be an endless time, and he could
make out nothing else, till someone spoke in a deep, gruff voice, and
said, "Yes, my lad, it is a very bad job, and I say, thank my stars I
hadn't the watch."

"Ay, messmate, and I say the same. The cooking was more in my way."

"Buck--Dan Mann," thought Mark, for he recognised the voices; but he
could not make out why it was he was lying there, nor whose father it
was somebody had been calling to.

He tried to think, but the more he tried to make out what it all meant
the greater grew the confusion, and at last he felt too weary to try, or
the power to continue the effort failed, for he lay quite still in a
stupor.

When his senses began to return again the sun had attacked--or so it
seemed--his other side. There was a peculiar gnawing in his shoulder,
and now and then a stinging pain as from a red hot ray, and while he was
trying to puzzle it out, a hand w