Still, I returned, though I did not much like the job, knelt down by the figure, and waited with my hand over its heart.

For five minutes or more I stayed here, and then, quite convinced, was about to leave again when, for the second time, I heard that faint groan.

Pereira was not dead, but only on the extreme brink of death! I ran to the entrance of the cave, calling the Kaffirs, and together we carried him out into the sunlight.

He was an awful spectacle, mere bone with yellow skin stretched over it, and covered with filth and clotted blood from some hurt.

I had brandy with me, of which I poured a little down his throat, whereon his heart began to beat feebly.