TWO STRONG REASONS.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 11642, 27 January 1900, Page 2

TWO STRONG REASONS.

W. J. M'llroy, Esq., Kumara, N.Z., said recently:—" From actual übo in my own family, and remarks mado by all who havo over used Chamberlain's Cough Remedy, I know H to bo the best cough mixture in tho market. .1 havo had the agency for ovor four years, liavo gold.man)' dozens, and havo never Imd a Binglo complaint." : Sold by nil dealers. I'rico Is 6d and 3a,

For an honr or jnqre I steadily pressed along',, keeping a straight course away from the enemy ; -. .and then, turning in the 'direction of the Southern Cros3, which was now beaming bright athwart tho sky, once more I headed towards the probable line of our- main force. ■.-.-■*>.

All fciiis times poor George had practically remained unconscious; now and again he would rouse himseif," and then with a quiverjug cry tall back into limp insensibility.' 1 had reined into a walk, and had got him more comfortably rested in my arms, when consciousness at length returned to him; bub 1)13 anguish was evidently unboarnbls. his-for-mer wok • insensibility vytis better fat'than, this latter train of torture, spasnis mixed with deep-groaned curses. At first he held out manfully, and gnawing the end of my waflsfc strap between his teeth he faced tho pain;"' but nature could not stand it fcng, and finally ho begged me just todrop him vrficra wo were. .■.■■•'-.-

At first I refused to dismount, and pointed out to him the danger that our foes might; still bo hunting'on our track, and happily" once i more he swooned away. But it did1 not last long; once more ho woke to consciousness and pnin.- and this time ordered me so earnestly to lay him- down that, coming to a rocky donga", in which a small spruit gurgled, invitingly. I halted there, and, dis-~ mounting, lowered him as gently as I eouW upon the ground. I gave him a sup of. whisky and water from my fla,?k, and, nft'or knee-haltering Tpulon, lit a small fire mi. t'Jie Jipllo.v of the rocks, find put the billy on to boil some soup. And then I-turned to George- to try and dress his hurt. -Poor chnp, his eyes v/era open, but evidently without intelligence, and quick-draiyn sobs showed how the pain was racking him. Ripping up his blood-soaked breeches, T saw. by the feeble glint of firelight, enough of mangled thigh to show how hopeless was his case. I poured him out a, stiffish rloso of whisky mixer) with chlorodyno, and waited, miserably watching, till he should awake. What could I do? Thoso jagged ojhlb of bpno could never so be bound as to_ stand the move and jolting- of the horse. We could not rest here long away from food1 and friends, and close beside fhe enemy. His ghastly pain put such a thought into my head as made my better mind recoil in horror, ami yet- _

Just then he spoke, but in a voice I hardly fcnew for Ids.

"It's no good, James," he said, "I'm done for this time, old chap ! . And I couldn't have, dreaded more pain about it than I'm getting now. I want you, old boy. to —to be my good pal to the last —and—help me out." I shuddered that lie had almost read my thought, and he gripped my hand.

'" I've not had a very gaudy time in this world, and I don't suppose I should ever have improved on it much. I suppose it was partly my own fault. I feel no desire to carry it on. My people expected and wanted ; mo to go great things—l preferred ths veldt. That is my only regret—not the veldt, no, there I have been happy, but my selfislmess—that's what hurts me now. -I wish I had done a bit more for other chaps in my time. I only sco now —when it is too late—what a useless lump I've been. But it's too late to cry over spilt milk now. Only to end this as soon as I can. Now, old friend, just get your revolver —I am longing for it. Oh ! for God's sake— " ho groaned, and again dropped into a swoon. _ :" All, the miserable tension of my indecision. Though he prayed me for it, I could not bring myself to do the thing he wanted. I reflected how, even if we were found by friends within the next few hours, which was more, than improbable, it would not necessarily mean the saving of his life, and meantime he would have to drag on in this awful agony. And even as I pondered, his pain-writhing had given a sickening twiet to the limbs. I waited no more.

I kicked up the fire for a better light. I put the muzzle to his temple, steeled my heart, and in a moment his pains were ended by the / hand that would have given iteelf to save him.

Happily no time was given me for reflection, for my horse, standing on the donga bank, at this moment gave a snort of alarm—not at. the pistol shot, he was top old a campaigner to notice that—and he stood silhouetted against; th? Ptars, staring into the darkness beyond the fire. There was a feeling, rather than a sound, of movement on the veldt beyond. In a few seconds I \yas beside him. and while I loosened his knee halter and lightened his girths, I could hear the rattin as of the wooden necklets and the gourd powder flasks of armed men running. ■ A moment more and 1 was on his back and flyinpr for my life. The Matabele had cither followed closely on our tracks, or a now party had boon attracted by our fire.

Next day I reached our main rjody, safe, but alone.