Sandho, however, made no sign beyond raising his muzzle again to sniff at the breeze we encountered; and when I called upon him to halt, he lowered his head directly and began to crop the rich grass growing amongst the stones.
My intention now was to dismount; but I sat still, hesitating, and looking away over the open veldt, fearing to alight, being fully aware how helpless I should be and unequal to the task of remounting.
However, it had to be done; so, pulling myself together, I drew my feet from the stirrups, and called upon Sandho to stand fast.

Then, lying forward till my face touched my steed's neck, I made a desperate effort--quickly, for I could not trust my strength--drew my injured left leg right up on to the horse's back, and lay there perfectly still for a few moments, suffering horribly from the pain of my overstrained muscles, before making another effort, and then dropped down on my right foot, dismounting on the wrong side of the horse, feeling, as I did so, everything give way.

I had completely collapsed, and all was blank.

It may have been an hour, or it may have been only a few minutes--possibly only seconds--passed before I opened my eyes and gazed up, wondering what was the meaning of the soft, warm puffs of moist air, and what it was that kept on snuffing at my face.
"Sandho, old boy!" I said, gazing up in his great, soft eyes, and the wondering horse whinnied and then turned away to begin grazing once more; while I waited for the sick feeling from which I suffered to pass off, before trying to get up and find some sharp-edged stone against which I could rub the raw-hide thong which bound my wrists.
It was terrible work, and I had to make a severe call upon my courage before I made the first effort.

For it was like this: I was quite exhausted and in a state of semi-stupor, combined with drowsiness.