For a minute or two the universe was turning round with him.

The Chinee and the strange white man moved in a kind of flicker, unreal as the figures in a cinematograph.

Then all was blank for a while.
When he came to, he was lying by the well with a bag under his head, and the strange white man was trying to pour some spirits down his throat.
"I'm--all right--thanks!" gasped Hugh.
"By Gord, Mister, it's lucky I happened to come along," said the stranger.

"You an' Sampson'd ha' both been drownded.

That Chow couldn't haul him up.