The injured limb made it impossible for him to stand or even crawl.
"You get ahead," he cried hoarsely. "Leave me, Verslun! Leave me here!"
"But I'd never find you again," I protested.
"Yes, you would! I'll crawl out after a few hours' rest. Run to the
camp, and shoot--shoot the devil the moment you put your eyes on him!"
I took a quick glance at the matted walls of the green creepers that
hedged us in on all sides. Holman was in the last stages of exhaustion,
and I reasoned quickly. If I left him in the middle of the thorny tangle
that encompassed us, it would be utterly impossible for me to find him
again, and he would probably perish from thirst. If I rushed away I
would be leaving him to certain death, and although our prospects of
leaving the island alive did not look too bright at that moment, I
considered that I would be making his demise a certainty by leaving him
in the maze.
I stopped, gripped him round the waist, and with a great effort managed
to lift him upon my shoulder. Holman's actions did not help me as I
struggled beneath him. He kicked like a madman when he understood what
I intended to do, but I held him in spite of his protests.
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