He closed the cartridge and loaded his gun with it, put those that were finished into his pocket and set out in the direction indicated.
The man was already clear of the bush when Mr. Todd reached him, sitting on the ground, clearly in a very bad way.
He was without hat or boots, and his clothes were so torn that it was only by the dampness of his body that they adhered to it; his feet were cut and grossly swollen; every exposed surface of skin was scarred by insect and bat bites; his eyes were wild with fever.
He was talking to himself in delirium but stopped when Todd approached and addressed him in English.
“You're the first person who's spoken to me for days,” said Tony.
“The others won't stop. They keep bicycling by … I'm tired … Brenda was with me at first but she was frightened by a mechanical mouse, so she took the canoe and went off.
She said she would come back that evening but she didn't.
I expect she's staying with one of her new friends in Brazil … You haven't seen her have you?”
“You are the first stranger I have seen for a very long time.”
“She was wearing a top hat when she left.
You can't miss her.”
Then he began talking to someone at Mr. Todd's side, who was not there.
“Do you see that house over there?
Do you think you can managed to walk to it?
If not I can send some Indians to carry you.”
Tony squinted across the savannah at Mr. Todd's hut.
“Architecture harmonizing with local character,” he said; “indigenous material employed throughout.
Don't let Mrs. Beaver see it or she will cover it with chromium plating.”
“Try and walk.”
Mr. Todd hoisted Tony to his feet and supported him with a stout arm.
“I'll ride your bicycle.
It was you I passed just now on a bicycle wasn't it? … except that your beard is a different colour.
His was green … green as mice.”
Mr. Todd led Tony across the hummocks of grass towards the house.
“It is a very short way.
When we get there I will give you something to make you better.”
“Very kind of you … rotten thing for a man to have his wife go away in a canoe.
That was a long time ago.
Nothing to eat since.”
Presently he said, “I say, you're English.
I'm English too.
My name is Last.”
“Well, Mr. Last, you aren't to bother about any thing more.
You're ill and you've had a rough journey.
I'll take care of you.”
Tony looked round him.
“Are you all English?”
“Yes, all of us.”
“That dark girl married a Moor … It's very lucky I met you all.
I suppose you're some kind of cycling club?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I feel too tired for bicycling … never liked it much … you fellows ought to get motor bicycles you know, much faster and noisier … Let's stop here.”
“No, you must come as far as the house.
It's not very much further.”
“All right … I suppose you would have some difficulty getting petrol here.”
They went very slowly, but at length reached the house.
“Lie there in the hammock.”
“That's what Messinger said.
He's in love with John Beaver.”
“I will get something for you.”