here's nothing miraculous about it," he said. "Last night I must have
been creased, sort of stunned, you know. The bullet didn't go near any
vital part. It just ploughed along the back of my neck and knocked me
unconscious. I suppose I would seem pretty dead to anyone who stumbled
across me. It's not always so easy for a layman to tell whether a man is
really dead or not. However, I remember coming-to just on daylight, and
hearing someone crashing through the bushes. It struck me then that I
didn't know how things had panned out, so I'd better take cover until I
made sure. So when you were hunting for me I was running away from you,
keeping a couple of jumps ahead all the time. I gradually edged round
towards the cave, and was just in time to see a dim figure slip out into
the bushes. I wasn't close enough to see more clearly. Miss Drummond,
you say. Yes, I suppose so; but I didn't know that then. However, as the
cave seemed deserted after that I took possession with the intention of
turning the tables. And then----But you know the rest yourself. How much
further have we got?"

"Lots," I said. "The others are dead and buried, and I have found the
original site of the hut. Once we locate the lone tree we're right."

"That should be easy enough," said Moira with a woman's airy assurance.

Cumshaw watched us both with a queer smile flickering about his lips.

"What do you think of it, Carstairs?" he said at length.

"I don't fancy there'll be much difficulty in that," I answered. "It
should be plain sailing from now onwards."

"It strikes me," he said, "that we're just entering upon the toughest
stretch of the lot. However, the sooner we get to work the better. I
vote we start right away."

"But, Mr. Cumshaw," Moira protested, "do you think you feel well
enough?"

"Miss Drummond," he answered, "I've got pains all down my neck, and my
head's humming like a hive of bees, and I've got incipient rheumatics in
every joint in my body from lying all night on the damp ground. It's bad
enough to have all that wrong with me, without being compelled to spend
another day in idleness. No, if I get to work at once I'll feel much
better. Work, you know, is a good soporific."

"I suppose you know best," she conceded, a little doubtfully.

"I've been thinking things over," I remarked as we made our way back to
the site of the hut, "and it's just struck me that something I once
heard Bryce say might have some bearing on the matter