brother was to rest in
peace, with all the suffering at an end. There were big, mossy pieces
of granite there, which would cover and protect the poor fellow's
resting-place, and a smooth, perpendicular face of rock above, on which
he saw himself, chipping out with hammer and cold chisel the one word
"Joe."

And then--

Back came the terrible scene, and over and over again, till, setting his
teeth hard, Dyke sprang up, and went to another bucket of water which he
had made Jack understand he was to fetch before he left him some hours
ago, and drank long and deeply before returning to the rough pallet,
renewing the cold bandage again, and then sinking upon his knees to bury
his face in his hands.

For a full hour Dyke knelt there in the black darkness as if asleep,
exhausted by the great mental and bodily fatigue, but hearing every
movement--thrilled by the piteous words which came from his brother's
lips. Then with a strange feeling of calm rest filling his breast, he
raised his head, bent over the sick man, and took the hot, burning hand
to hold it to his cheek.

"I won't be such a coward as to break down now, Joe, old chap," he said
softly, and as if it were a confidential whisper which his brother
heard. "I was so tired, and I was frightened to see you like this, but
I'm going to try and play the man now, and--and I'll stick to you, Joe,
to the--"

He was going to say "last," but he checked it, with something like a sob
rising to his lips.

"Till--till you get better, old man, and I can help you to go and sit in
my old corner in the shade among the rocks. For you're going to be
better soon, old chap; and though you're very bad, and it's dark, and
help is so far away, we're not alone, Joe--we're not alone."

No: not alone!

For as the boy knelt there, holding that burning hand, there came the
long, low, yelping wail of the jackals prowling around, as if they
scented death in the air; and as the dismal sound swept here and there
about the lonely house, coming and going, and at times apparently quite
close, Dyke shuddered. But the next moment there arose the deep-toned,
fierce roar of a lion, far away possibly, yet in its tremendous power
sounding so near that it might have been close at hand.

Then the yelping of the jackals ceased, as if the foul creatures had
been scared away by the nobler beast; and after a few uneasy movements
among the frightened cattle in the pens, all was still with a great
solem