He broke down, and crouched there by the bedside completely prostrate for a few minutes--not for more. Then the terrible emergency stirred him to action, and he sprang up ready to fight the great danger for his brother's sake, and determined to face all. What to do? He needed no telling what was wrong; his brother was down with one of the terrible African fevers that swept away so many of the whites who braved the dangers of the land, and Dyke knew that he must act at once if the poor fellow's life was to be saved. But how? What was he to do? To get a doctor meant a long, long journey with a wagon. He felt that it would be impossible to make that journey with a horse alone, on account of the necessity for food for himself and steed. But he could not go. If he did, he felt that it would be weeks before he could get back with medical assistance, even if he reached a doctor, and could prevail upon him to come. And in that time Joe, left to the care of this half-savage woman, who had quite made up her mind that her master would die, would be dead indeed. No: the only chance of saving him was never to leave his side. Fever! Yes, they had medicine in the house for fever. Quinine-- Warburgh drops--and chlorodyne. Which would it be best to give? Dyke hurried to the chest which contained their valuables and odds and ends, and soon routed out the medicines, deciding at once upon quinine, and mixing a strong dose of that at once, according to the instructions given upon the bottle. That given, the boy seated himself upon a box by the bed's head, asking himself what he ought to do next. He took Emson's hand again, and felt his pulse, but it only told him what he knew--that there was a terrible fever raging, and the pulsations were quick and heavy through the burning skin. A sudden thought struck him now. The place was terribly hot, and he hurriedly opened the little window for the breeze to pass through. There was an alteration in the temperature at once, but he knew that was not enough, and running to the door, he picked up a bucket, and called for Tanta Sal, who came slowly. "Baas Joe go die.--Jack?" She pointed away over the plain, and Dyke nodded. "Yes, Jack is coming. Go, quick! fetch water." The woman understood, and taking the bucket, went off at once towards where the cool spring gurgled among the rocks at the kopje.