Dead Man's Land: Being the Voyage to Zimbambangwe of certain and uncertain blacks and whitesFenn, George Manville
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Dead Man's Land: Being the Voyage to Zimbambangwe of certain and uncertain blacks and whites
Fenn, George Manville
Africa -- Fiction; Hunting stories; Travel -- Fiction
Another day passed, and Dean, who had left his cousin asleep while he
went out to help the men to fetch water, returned to camp to look about
with startled eyes, for Mark's couch was vacant, and Dean's first
thought was that, fancying he had gained enough strength, he had started
off alone.
Reproaching himself with what he looked upon as neglect of his cousin,
he hurried off amongst the trees, searching in the direction that he
thought it probable Mark would have taken.
"I'm sure he can't have gone far," he said to himself; and so it proved,
for before long he caught sight of him.
Mark, who did not hear him come up, was kneeling by a great trunk, his
clasped hands resting upon the buttress, his brow bent, and his lips
moving rapidly.
Dean, with the nerves of his face twitching, crept silently up to where
he could touch his cousin, and then resting his own hands upon those of
Mark, he too bent down, and the next minute his lips were also moving.
At last Mark spoke.
"Oh, Dean," he said, "a few minutes ago I thought that all was over.
But oh, what a coward I have been, when perhaps all the time the poor
dad, a prisoner, is comforting himself with the hope that we shall go
and rescue him!"
"Don't--don't, old chap!" cried Dean. "Call _me_ a coward, if you like;
I won't mind. But it's like sticking one of the Illaka's spears into me
when you, you brave old chap, keep on reproaching yourself; and every
word you say is nothing but a lie."
"Brave old chap!" cried Mark mockingly, and he burst into a strange
laugh which made his cousin shiver.
"Don't!" cried Dean passionately. "What does a fellow want? To be
brave? Doesn't he want to be well and strong?"
"Oh, I suppose so."
"And there have you been fainting dead away over and over again. Who
could be brave when he is like that?"
"There, don't talk. We are wasting time."
"What are you going to do?"
"You ask me that, with your uncle waiting to be saved! Come on."
"Come on where?"
"I must--I must get back to the ruins."
The boy took hold tightly of the sharp-edged buttress-like root upon
which his hands had rested, and exerting the little strength that he had
gained, he drew himself up erect, and then with everything swimming
round, he reeled away from his support and would have fallen heavily but
for the way in which Dean snatched at him, and yet, in spite of a quick
effort on the boy's part, the pair fell heavily down amongst the bushes.
"It's of no use, Mark; you are too weak and helpless. We must go on
camping here for the present."
"You are quite right," said Mark sadly, "I am as weak as a child; but we
have to go."
"But you can't," cried Dean angrily.
"I must, and I will," cried Mark, with fierce determination. "And
promise me this--"
"Promise you what?" said Dean, for his cousin ceased speaking.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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