The fancy maddened him, for it seemed cruel and horrible to think of such a thing when his brother lay there muttering in the delirium; but the thought would come persistently, and there was the picture vividly standing out before him. For his mind was in such an unnatural state of exaltation that he could not keep it hidden from his mental gaze. There it all was, over and over again: that place he had selected where it was nearly always shaded--in that rift in the kopje where the soft herbage grew, and climbed and laced overhead, while the low murmur of the water gurgling from the rocks in the next rift fell gently upon his ear. He had selected that spot because it was so calm and peaceful, and drawn poor Joe there upon the little sled. He saw it all--the shallow, dark bed he had dug in the soft earth, where his brother was to rest in peace, with all the suffering at an end. There were big, mossy pieces of granite there, which would cover and protect the poor fellow's resting-place, and a smooth, perpendicular face of rock above, on which he saw himself, chipping out with hammer and cold chisel the one word "Joe." And then-- Back came the terrible scene, and over and over again, till, setting his teeth hard, Dyke sprang up, and went to another bucket of water which he had made Jack understand he was to fetch before he left him some hours ago, and drank long and deeply before returning to the rough pallet, renewing the cold bandage again, and then sinking upon his knees to bury his face in his hands. For a full hour Dyke knelt there in the black darkness as if asleep, exhausted by the great mental and bodily fatigue, but hearing every movement--thrilled by the piteous words which came from his brother's lips. Then with a strange feeling of calm rest filling his breast, he raised his head, bent over the sick man, and took the hot, burning hand to hold it to his cheek. "I won't be such a coward as to break down now, Joe, old chap," he said softly, and as if it were a confidential whisper which his brother heard. "I was so tired, and I was frightened to see you like this, but I'm going to try and play the man now, and--and I'll stick to you, Joe, to the--" He was going to say "last," but he checked it, with something like a sob rising to his lips. "Till--till you get better, old man, and I can help you to go and sit in my old corner in the shade among the rocks. For you're going to be better soon, old chap; and though you're very bad, and it's dark, and help is so far away, we're not alone, Joe--we're not alone." No: not alone!