His face assumed an expression of incredulity as he gazed, and he passed his boney hand over his eyes.

"This is what they call delirium, I guess," he muttered.

The child stood beside him, holding on to the skirt of his coat, and said nothing but looked all round her with the wondering questioning gaze of childhood.
The rescuing party were speedily able to convince the two castaways that their appearance was no delusion.

One of them seized the little girl, and hoisted her upon his shoulder, while two others supported her gaunt companion, and assisted him towards the waggons.
"My name is John Ferrier," the wanderer explained; "me and that little un are all that's left o' twenty-one people.

The rest is all dead o' thirst and hunger away down in the south." "Is she your child ?" asked someone.
"I guess she is now," the other cried, defiantly; "she's mine 'cause I saved her.