Page 220 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

by Mrs. Vickers milked the goat—she had never done such
a thing before in all her life—and the milk being given to
Bates in a pannikin, he drank it eagerly, but vomited it al-
most instantly. It was evident that he was sinking from
some internal injury.
None of the party had much appetite for breakfast, but
Frere, whose sensibilities were less acute than those of the
others, ate a piece of salt meat and damper. It struck him,
with a curious feeling of pleasant selfishness, that now
Grimes had gone, the allowance of provisions would be in-
creased, and that if Bates went also, it would be increased
still further. He did not give utterance to his thoughts, how-
ever, but sat with the wounded man’s head on his knees, and
brushed the settling flies from his face. He hoped, after all,
that the pilot would not die, for he should then be left alone
to look after the women. Perhaps some such thought was
agitating Mrs. Vickers also. As for Sylvia, she made no se-
cret of her anxiety.
‘Don’t die, Mr. Bates—oh, don’t die!’ she said, standing
piteously near, but afraid to touch him. ‘Don’t leave mam-
ma and me alone in this dreadful place!’
Poor Bates, of course, said nothing, but Frere frowned
heavily, and Mrs. Vickers said reprovingly, ‘Sylvia!’ just as if
they had been in the old house on distant Sarah Island.
In the afternoon Frere went away to drag together some
wood for the fire, and when he returned he found the pi-
lot near his end. Mrs. Vickers said that for an hour he had
lain without motion, and almost without breath. The ma-
jor’s wife had seen more than one death-bed, and was calm

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