ground, Chris
raised himself a little and extricated his foot from the stirrup, before
hauling himself up by the leather, to stand steadying himself by the
saddle, laughing the while what sounded to Ned like a wild, hysterical
laugh that was to be his last.

"Chris!" he cried.

"It's all right," gasped the boy, struggling to grow calm. "That tumble
has knocked the faintness out of me. I know now--what's--what's the
matter with us both."

"Chris!" rang out again.

"I know, I tell you--I felt a little while ago--oh, so ill, as if
something was coming on and we were both going to die. But I know now.
Can't you see, Ned?"

There was no answer.

"Then I'll tell you. What did you have to eat yesterday?"

"Eat? I couldn't eat, only drink that little drop of water."

"And I couldn't, and didn't have above half a meal the night before.
Then we've been through so much ever since, and drunk all that water,
and the sun's been beating down on us."

"What!" cried Ned, staring. "You mean it's because we're so hungry?"

"Why, of course it is. Now, tumble off your pony and lie down and die
if you dare!"

"Chris!"

"That's it, I tell you, and you know it is. Oh dear, I feel so
light-headed, and so empty and faint, and nothing else the matter with
me at all, only that I'm so miserable because we can't get on faster."

Ned sat staring and thinking hard, but he said no word in contradiction
of his companion's theory.

And there they stayed for quite ten minutes, Ned seated in his saddle,
Chris standing resting against his, and with his pony pressing against
him as if to keep him upright.

"Look at old Skeeter's brother," said Chris, at last. "He must be his
brother, because he's so like him."

Ned looked in the same direction as his companion, to see that the mule
had gone plodding on along the trail, flapping one ear to keep off the
flies, and looking as if nothing would prevent it from going straight
back to the camp.

"I say, you feel better now, don't you?" said Chris suddenly.

"I feel very ill and weak and giddy."

"That's how I feel," said Chris, "and I'm afraid to try and get up into
the saddle again. I know I shall go down bang."

"No, no, don't," cried Ned excitedly. "Here, I'll get on the other
side, and take hold of your hand."

"Shan't I pull you down too?"

"No," said Ned, speaking more strongly; "I won't let you."

"Catch hold, then," cried Chris, as his comrade urged his nag alongsid