Tell me. What am I to do?"

No answer; but the muttering went on, and d.y.k.e turned to the Kaffir woman. "How long has he been ill?"

"Baas Joe go die," said the woman, nodding her head.

"No, no; he will be better soon. When was he taken ill?"

"Baas Joe go die," said the woman with horrible persistence. "No eat-- no drink--no sleep. Go die."

"Go away!" cried d.y.k.e wildly. "You are as bad as one of those horrible birds. Get out!"

The woman smiled, for she did not understand a word. The gesture of pointing to the door was sufficient, and she went out, leaving the brothers alone.

"Joe!" cried d.y.k.e wildly. "Can't you speak to me, old chap? Can't you tell me what to do? I want to help you, but I am so stupid and ignorant. What can I do?"

The muttering went on, and the big erst strong man slowly rolled his head from side to side, staring away into the past, and sending a chill of horror through the boy.

For a few moments d.y.k.e bowed his head right into his hands, and uttered a low groan of agony, completely overcome by the horror of his position--alone there in that wild place, five or six days' journey from any one, and hundreds of miles from a doctor, even if he had known where to go.

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 d.y.k.e 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 a.s.sistance, 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? d.y.k.e 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 pa.s.s 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 d.y.k.e 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.

The feeling of terrible horror and fear attacked d.y.k.e again directly, and he shrank from going to his brother's side, lest he should see him pa.s.s away to leave him alone there in the desert; but a sensation of shame came to displace the fear. It was selfish, he felt; and with a new thought coming, he went to the back of the door, took down the great heavy scissors with which he and Emson had often operated upon the ostrich-feathers, cutting them off short, and leaving the quill stumps in the birds' skins, where after a time they withered and fell out, giving place to new plumes. Then kneeling down by the head of the rough bed, he began to shear away the thick close locks of hair from about the sick man's temples, so that the brain might be relieved of some of the terrible heat.

This done, he went to the chest, and got out a couple of handkerchiefs.

His stay in that torrid clime had taught him much, but he had never thought of applying a little physical fact to the purpose he now intended. For he knew that if a bottle or jug of water were surrounded by a wet cloth and kept saturated, either in a draught or in the sun, the great evaporation which went on would cool the water within the vessel.

"And if it will do this," d.y.k.e thought, "why will it not cool poor Joe's head?"

He bent down over him, and spoke softly, then loudly; but Emson was perfectly unconscious, and wandering in his delirium, muttering words constantly, but what they were d.y.k.e could not grasp.

In a few minutes Tanta Sal re-appeared with the bucket of cool spring-water.

"Baas Joe go die," she said, shaking her head as she set it down; and then, without waiting to be told to go, she went round to the back, and began to pile up fuel and fan the expiring fire, before proceeding to make and bake a cake.

Meanwhile, d.y.k.e had been busy enough. He had soaked one of the handkerchiefs in the bucket, and laid it dripping right across Emson's brow and temples, leaving it there for a few minutes, while he prepared the other. The minutes were not many when he took off the first to find it quite hot, and he replaced it with the other, which became hot in turn, and was changed; and so he kept on for quite an hour, with the result that his brother's mutterings grew less rapid and loud, so that now and then the boy was able to catch a word here and a word there.

All disconnected, but suggestive of the trouble that was on the sick man's mind, for they were connected with the birds, and his ill-luck, his voice taking quite a despairing tone as he cried:

"No good. Failure, failure--nothing succeeds. It is of no use."

And then, in quite a piteous tone:

"Poor d.y.k.e! So hard for him."

This was too much. The tears welled up in the boy's eyes, but he mastered his emotion, and kept on laying the saturated bandages upon his brother's brow, watching by him hour after hour, forgetful of everything, till all at once there was a loud, deep barking, and Duke trotted into the house, to come up to the bedside, raise himself up, and begin pawing at the friend he had not seen for so long.

"It's no good, Duke, old chap," said d.y.k.e sadly; "he don't know you. Go and lie down, old man. Go away."

The dog dropped down on all-fours at once, and quickly sought his favourite place in one corner of the room, seeming to comprehend that he was not wanted there, and evidently understanding the order to lie down.

The coming of the dog was followed by the approach of the wagon, and the lowing of the bullocks as they drew near to their familiar quarters; the cows answered, and Duke leaped up and growled, uttering a low bark, but returned to his corner as soon as bidden.

At first d.y.k.e had felt stunned by the terrible calamity which had overtaken his brother; but first one and then another thing had been suggested to his mind, and the busy action had seemed to clear his brain.

This cool application had certainly had some effect; and as he changed the handkerchief again, he saw plainly enough what he must do next.

Wiping his hands, he sought for paper and pencil, and wrote in a big round hand:

"_I came home and found my brother here, at Kopfontein, bad with fever.

He does not know me. Pray send to fetch a doctor_."

He folded this, then doubled it small, and tied it up with a piece of string, after directing it to "Herr Hans Morgenstern, at the Store."

This done, he once more changed the wet handkerchiefs, and went out to find Jack outspanning the cattle, and talking in a loud voice to his wife.

"Jack," he said, "the baas is very bad. You must go back to Morgenstern's and take this."

He handed the tied-up paper to the Kaffir, who took it, turned it over, and then handed it back, looking at his young master in the most helplessly stupid way.

d.y.k.e repeated the order, and pointed toward the direction from which they had come, forcing the letter into Jack's hand.