Harding approved entirely, and it was decided that the two wounds should be dressed without attempting to close them by immediate coaptation.
And now did the colonists possess an efficacious agent to act against the inflammation which might occur?
Yes.They had one, for nature had generously lavished it.They had cold water, that is to say, the most powerful sedative that can be employed against inflammation of wounds, the most efficacious therapeutic agent in grave cases, and the one which is now adopted by all physicians.Cold water has, moreover, the advantage of leaving the wound in absolute rest, and preserving it from all premature dressing, a considerable advantage, since it has been found by experience that contact with the air is dangerous during the first days.
Gideon Spilett and Cyrus Harding reasoned thus with their simple good sense, and they acted as the best surgeon would have done.Compresses of linen were applied to poor Herbert's two wounds, and were kept constantly wet with cold water.
The sailor had at first lighted a fire in the hut, which was not wanting in things necessary for life.Maple sugar, medicinal plants, the same which the lad had gathered on the banks of Lake Grant, enabled them to make some refreshing drinks, which they gave him without his taking any notice of it.
His fever was extremely high, and all that day and night passed without his becoming conscious.
Herbert's life hung on a thread, and this thread might break at any moment.The next day, the 12th of November, the hopes of Harding and his companions slightly revived.Herbert had come out of his long stupor.He opened his eyes, he recognized Cyrus Harding, the reporter, and Pencroft.
He uttered two or three words.He did not know what had happened.They told him, and Spilett begged him to remain perfectly still, telling him that his life was not in danger, and that his wounds would heal in a few days.
However, Herbert scarcely suffered at all, and the cold water with which they were constantly bathed, prevented any inflammation of the wounds.The suppuration was established in a regular way, the fever did not increase, and it might now be hoped that this terrible wound would not involve any catastrophe.Pencroft felt the swelling of his heart gradually subside.He was like a sister of mercy.like a mother by the bed of her child.
Herbert dozed again, but his sleep appeared more natural.
"Tell me again that you hope, Mr.Spilett," said Pencroft."Tell me again that you will save Herbert!""Yes, we will save him!" replied the reporter."The wound is serious, and, perhaps, even the ball has traversed the lungs, but the perforation of this organ is not fatal.""God bless you!" answered Pencroft.
As may be believed, during the four-and-twenty hours they had been in the corral, the colonists had no other thought than that of nursing Herbert.
They did not think either of the danger which threatened them should the convicts return, or of the precautions to be taken for the future.
But on this day, while Pencroft watched by the sick-bed, Cyrus Harding and the reporter consulted as to what it would be best to do.
First of all they examined the corral.There was not a trace of Ayrton.
Had the unhappy man been dragged away by his former accomplices? Had he resisted, and been overcome in the struggle? This last supposition was only too probable.Gideon Spilett, at the moment he scaled the palisade, had clearly seen some one of the convicts running along the southern spur of Mount Franklin, towards whom Top had sprung.It was one of those whose object had been so completely defeated by the rocks at the mouth of the Mercy.Besides, the one killed by Harding, and whose body was found outside the enclosure, of course belonged to Bob Harvey's crew.
As to the corral, it had not suffered any damage.The gates were closed, and the animals had not been able to disperse in the forest.Nor could they see traces of any struggle, any devastation, either in the hut, or in the palisade.The ammunition only, with which Ayrton had been supplied, had disappeared with him.
