As he explained afterwards, of course, as a fatalist, he knew well that whatever must happen would happen, but still he considered it right and proper to return thanks to the Power which had arranged that on this occasion the happenings should be good, and not ill, a sentiment with which every one of us agreed.
Opposite to him, with one of his faithful eyes fixed on Orme, sat Pharaoh in grave contemplation.

Doubtless, being an Eastern dog, he understood the meaning of public prayer; or perhaps he thought that he should receive some share of gratitude and thanks.
When we awoke the sun was already high, and to show us that we had dreamed no dream, there was Quick frying tinned bacon over the fire, while Pharaoh sat still and watched him--or the bacon.
"Look," said Orme to me, pointing to the mountains, "they are still miles away.

It was madness to think that we could reach them." I nodded, then turned to stare at Higgs, who was just waking up, for, indeed, he was a sight to see.

His fiery red hair was full of sand, his nether garments were gone, apparently at some stage in our march he had dispensed with the remains of them because they chafed his sore limbs, and his fair skin, not excluding that of his face, was a mass of blisters, raised by the sun.

In fact he was so disfigured that his worst enemy would not have known him.