Without answering his question, if indeed he understood it at all, the brawny hunchback lifted him from the earth and, with greatest care, carried him inside to deposit him upon a litter of skins in the corner.
Of a sudden, as Gordon Duncan waited the results of the preparations that were going forward on the river island, his eyes wandered to the mountainside, and his gaze became transfixed.
“The cabin!” he exclaimed. “Timmie’s cabin! And smoke is coming from the chimney! He is still there! Still there!” At once he became greatly agitated.
“He is a recluse!” he went on rapidly. “A natural recluse, but a good man and a faithful companion. He once saved my life. And to think—” he drew his hand across his eyes, “to think that this moment of all those long years I am able to look upon that cabin again!”
He took a step forward as if to scale the mountain. But Faye tugged at his arm.
“The natives,” she insisted. “Without our aid they may perish.”
“Ah, yes.” He became calm. “I must wait. Our duty is always to do the greatest good to largest numbers. It’s God’s law. All things in His good time.”
Turning, he watched with ever increasing anxiety the preparations that were going forward on the little island across the waters.
Exactly a quarter of an hour, measured by Gordon Duncan’s large and ancient timepiece, elapsed before the natives on the island announced by a wild burst of shouting that they were ready for Gordon Duncan and Faye to haul away on the line of homespun yarn.
Faye found her heart beating wildly as she seized the slender line that spanned the rushing water. Well enough she knew that should this line fail them, a half score of lives must be lost.
“And life,” she told herself as her lips moved in silent prayer, “life is such a precious heritage.”
Slowly, steadily, they began to haul away. Moment by moment the tug on that slender line grew stronger.
Now as the current rising in mad fury redoubled its efforts to defeat them, it seemed that surely the slender line must snap.
“It—it’s like landing a great trout,” the girl told herself.
And now, just as it seemed the line must break, the rush subsided. Hauling away with a will they at last gave forth an exultant shout. Gordon Duncan’s hand gripped the end of the stout rawhide rope that now spanned the flood.