The stricken man's breathing was painfully laboured, and he spoke with extreme difficulty, so that it was hard to understand him.
"Have you any whiskey?" Stephens inquired.
"There's nothing you could have done that I know of," said Stephens; "I was thinking whether I could try to lance it for you, but I'm afraid of cutting an artery. Of course, Felipe, it isn't possible that you could have any whiskey?"
"No, indeed, Sooshiuamo," said the boy; "how could I?"
"No, no, of course you couldn't," said the prospector; "and I haven't any neither. If we had a quart of whiskey here we might be able to save him. The only thing we can do is to keep him moving. Look here, Felipe, you lift him under the right shoulder and I'll lift him under the left; we must walk him around. Now then, up!" Between them they raised the unhappy man to his feet.
"Come on," cried Stephens, "hold him up. Steady now."
They walked forward as steadily as they could in the direction of the cave-dwelling, Backus staggering along between them. His legs went through the motions of walking almost mechanically, but his weight rested entirely on his two supporters, and he was a heavy man to carry.
"Stick to it, Felipe," said Stephens, "it's the only chance for him. Keep him going." They reached the cave. "Set him down here a minute before the fire," said Stephens, putting aside his rifle, and with both hands lowering the patient to the ground, after spreading his blanket for him to lie on. Backus was in a state of appalling collapse; the swelling increased so rapidly that it seemed as if his head must burst; the inflamed skin was horribly mottled with red and green and yellow, and a cold sweat broke out on him. Stephens knelt beside him and felt his pulse; it was rapid, fluttering, and feeble.
Felipe looked on, awestruck and speechless. That the prospector should try to preserve the life of his enemy did not appeal to him at all; it seemed to him only one more of the unaccountable things these Americans did. But the frightful state of the storekeeper, and the agonising pains he was suffering were the work of the dread reptile he had been taught to reverence from his earliest days. The gods were angry with Backus, and this was their doing.