I remember I said over in my head all the songs and verses
I knew, to keep my mind from my condition. I had long ago got and lost
my second wind and whatever other winds there be, and was moving less by
bodily strength than by sheer doggedness of spirit. Weak tears were
running down my cheeks, my breath rasped in my throat, but I was in the
frame of mind that if death had found me next moment my legs would
still have twitched in an effort to run.
At an open bit of the forest Shalah stopped and looked at the sky. I
blundered into him, and then from sheer weakness rolled on the ground.
He grunted and turned to me. I felt his cool hand passing over my brow
and cheek, and his fingers kneading the muscles of my forlorn legs.
'Twas some Indian device, doubtless, but its power was miraculous.
Under his hands my body seemed to be rested and revived. New strength
stole into my sinews, new vigour into my blood. The thing took maybe
five minutes--not more; but I scrambled to my feet a man again. Indeed
I was a better man than when I started, for this Indian wizardry had
given me an odd lightness of head and heart. When we took up the
running, my body, instead of a leaden clog, seemed to be a thing of air
and feathers.
It was now hard on midnight, and the moon was high in the heavens.
Pages:
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243