vis had given
up all hope long ago. But he did not say so.

Walking up the nullah a bit to the right, Green came to the foot of a
huge mass of black rock about twelve feet high, and he thought that from
the top of that he might get a more extended view of the bed of the
nullah, and perhaps discern some hollow which had not yet been explored.
The climbing was not difficult, and he soon sprang up. There were
smaller boulders on the little plateau, and a mimosa bush, and an
English officer lying on his back, with his arms extended, and his sword
attached to his right wrist.

Green ran to his side; it was the object of his search--Tom Strachan.

"Dead!" he cried. "Poor old Tom; dead after all!"

He knelt down and took his left arm up in order to get nearer to his
body, to feel if there was warmth in it.

The arm was limp, not stiff; the fingers had been cut by some sharp
weapon, and when stirred, blood dropped from them. These signs gave
Green fresh hope, and loosening the kharkee, he thrust his hand into his
breast. Certainly there was warmth!

He raised the body a little, propping the shoulders against a stone, and
taking out a flask he had brought for the purpose, he poured a little
brandy into the mouth. It was swallowed. He gave him more, and
presently he moved his lips and eyelids.

His first fear over, Green examined him more closely, and found that his
clothes were saturated with blood from a broad wound, no doubt a spear-
thrust, in the right side. Surgeons were not far, and immediate
assistance might be everything, so he rose and went to the edge of the
rock to call Davis or Gubbins, who must be within reach of his voice.

Shouting their names, he passed close to the mimosa bush, from the cover
of which a man, with tangled locks and glaring eyes, and naked, but for
a waist-cloth, sprang out upon him like a wild cat.

He had lost or broken his weapons, but he clasped the young officer in
his arms, and bore him to the ground, and then, searching for his throat
with his hands, sought to throttle him, while Green, keeping his chin
down to his chest, and dragging at his hands, strove to prevent his
design.

The movement was so sudden that he never suspected the Arab's presence
till he was on him. The savage wrenched his left arm free; Green upon
this got his right-hand down, and managed to clutch his revolver; and
just as his enemy's fingers forced their way under his chin to his
throat, he put the