"Send for ropes, Massa Malone."

"Who can I send, and where?"

"Send to Indian villages, sah. Plenty hide rope in Indian village.
Indian down below; send him."

"Who is he?

"One of our Indians. Other ones beat him and take away his pay. He
come back to us. Ready now to take letter, bring rope,--anything."

To take a letter! Why not? Perhaps he might bring help; but in any
case he would ensure that our lives were not spent for nothing, and
that news of all that we had won for Science should reach our friends
at home. I had two completed letters already waiting. I would spend
the day in writing a third, which would bring my experiences absolutely
up to date. The Indian could bear this back to the world. I ordered
Zambo, therefore, to come again in the evening, and I spent my
miserable and lonely day in recording my own adventures of the night
before. I also drew up a note, to be given to any white merchant or
captain of a steam-boat whom the Indian could find, imploring them to
see that ropes were sent to us, since our lives must depend upon it.
These documents I threw to Zambo in the evening, and also my purse,
which contained three English sovereigns. These were to be given to
the Indian, and he was promised twice as much if he returned with the
ropes.

So now you will understand, my dear Mr. McArdle, how this communication
reaches you, and you will also know the truth, in case you never hear
again from your unfortunate correspondent. To-night I am too weary and
too depressed to make my plans. To-morrow I must think out some way by
which I shall keep in touch with this camp, and yet search round for
any traces of my unhappy friends.

CHAPTER XIII

"A Sight which I shall Never Forget"

Just as the sun was setting upon that melancholy night I saw the lonely
figure of the Indian upon the vast plain beneath me, and I watched him,
our one faint hope of salvation, until he disappeared in the rising
mists of evening which lay, rose-tinted from the setting sun, between
the far-off river and me.

It was quite dark when I at last turned back to our stricken camp, and
my last vision as I went was the red gleam of Zambo's fire, the one
point of light in the wide world below, as was his faithful presence in
my own shadowed soul. And yet I felt happier than I had done since
this crushing blow had fallen upon me, for it was good to think that
the world sh