He Is, Too, A Man
Of Exceptionally Small Stature, And So Eluded The Quick Sight Of The
Black-Fellow.
In spite of the disadvantage under which they were placed by the sudden
attack and wounds, the white men overpowered and dispersed their
treacherous foes.
In what a terrible position they were now placed,
fifty-five miles from Cutmore's Well, the nearest certain water, for the
chances that the water found between would be dried up, were great! Only
one man unwounded and one suffering the most awful tortures of pain; and
nobody with the smallest medical skill, within God knows how many miles!
Death seemed certain, but while life remained they were not the men to
give in, and they thought of a plan whereby the life of their mate might
be saved if only their horses held out. They travelled five miles, then
camped, and the available man returned to the rocks to water the horses
at the risk of being again attacked by the niggers. And thus dot and go
one, they hoped to reach Cutmore's.
So much endurance could not remain unrewarded and the two wounded men were
overjoyed by the report of a shot (a dynamite shot as it afterwards
transpired, fired by Rogers, Parks, and Lockhart as they worked on their
reef), and as soon as the horses returned, the little band set forth in
the direction from which the welcome sound had come, and before long saw
the camp of the lucky prospectors.
Fortunately Mr. Parks had some knowledge of surgery, picked up in the
African bush, where he had been a trader, and so could doctor the wounded
men.
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