He felt the Sikh's grasp relaxing, and threw his arms round the man's neck.
A quarter of an hour passed and then, to his dismay, he saw that he was close to the bush, on the wrong side of the river.

He himself was getting rapidly weaker, and he felt that he could not support the weight of the soldier much farther.

Accordingly he grasped a branch that overhung the river, pulled himself in to the shore, and there lay at the edge of the mud.
When he recovered his breath, he began to calculate his chances.
The bush overhead seemed very thick, and he resolved to shelter there for a time.

Occasionally he could hear the sound of voices close by, and was sure that the Ashantis were in force there.
His companions would, he was sure, regard him as dead when, on pulling on the wire, they found that it was loose; and after the failure of this attempt to establish a bridge, would probably start on their return march, without delay.

He had, therefore, only himself to rely upon, beyond what assistance he could get from the Sikh, when the latter regained consciousness.
He poured a little spirits into the man's mouth, and presently had the satisfaction of seeing him move.