to get a firm grasp of his position,
and felt half annoyed with himself at the calm way in which he treated
it. For after that long, calm, restful sleep, things did not look half
so bad; the depression of spirit had passed away, his thoughts were
disposed to run cheerfully, and his tendency of feeling was toward
making the best of things.

"Well," he found himself saying, as he ran over his last night's
discovery, "they're only savages! What could one expect? Let them go.
And as to its being lonely, why old Robinson Crusoe was a hundred times
worse off; somebody is sure to come along one of those days. I don't
care: old Joe's better--I'm sure he's better--and if Doctor Dyke don't
pull him through, he's a Dutchman, and well christened Van."

He had one good long look in his patient's face, felt his pulse, and
then his heart beatings; and at last, as if addressing some one who had
spoken depreciatingly of his condition:

"Why, he is better, I'm sure.--Here, Duke: hungry? Come along, old
man."

The dog shot out of the door, giving one deep-toned bark, and Dyke
hurried to the wagon, opened a sack of meal, poured some into the bottom
of a bucket, carried it back to the house, with the dog sniffing about
him, his mouth watering. Then adding some water to the meal, he beat it
into a stiff paste, and placed about half on a plate, giving the bucket
with the rest to the dog, which attacked it ravenously, and not
hesitating about eating a few bits of the cold, sticky stuff himself.

He gave a glance at Emson, and then went to the back, scraped a little
fuel together, lit it, and blew it till it began to glow, hung the
kettle over it for the water to boil, and then, closely followed by
Duke, ran to feed the horses, just as a low, deep lowing warned him that
the cows wanted attention.

Fortunately only one was giving much milk, for Dyke's practice in that
way had been very small: it was a work of necessity, though, to relieve
the poor beasts, which followed him as he hurried back for a pail, one
that soon after stood half full of warm, new milk, while the soft-eyed,
patient beasts went afterwards calmly away to graze.

"Here, who's going to starve?" cried Dyke aloud, with a laugh that was,
however, not very mirthful; and then going back to the fire he kneaded
up his cake, placed it upon a hot slab of stone, covered it with an
earthen pot, swept the embers and fire over the whole, and left it to
bake.

His next proce