"Grey, Zane - Betty Zane" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grey Zane)

hand and with the other was making feeble strokes. He concluded the man was
either wounded or nearly drowned, for his movements were becoming slower and
weaker every moment. His white face lay against the log and barely above
water. Alfred shouted encouraging words to him.

At the bend of the river a little rocky point jutted out a few yards into the
water. As the current carried the log toward this point, Alfred, after
divesting himself of some of his clothing, plunged in and pulled it to the
shore. The pallid face of the man clinging to the log showed that he was
nearly exhausted, and that he had been rescued in the nick of time. When
Alfred reached shoal water he slipped his arm around the man, who was unable
to stand, and carried him ashore.

The rescued man wore a buckskin hunting shirt and leggins and moccasins of the
same material, all very much the worse for wear. The leggins were torn into
tatters and the moccasins worn through. His face was pinched with suffering
and one arm was bleeding from a gunshot wound near the shoulder.

"Can you not speak? Who are you?" asked Clarke, supporting the limp figure.

The man made several efforts to answer, and finally said something that to
Alfred sounded like "Zane," then he fell to the ground unconscious.

All this time the dog had acted in a most peculiar manner, and if Alfred had
not been so intent on the man he would have noticed the animal's odd
maneuvers. He ran to and fro on the sandy beach; he scratched up the sand and
pebbles, sending them flying in the air; he made short, furious dashes; he
jumped, whirled, and, at last, crawled close to the motionless figure and
licked its hand.

Clarke realized that he would not be able to carry the inanimate figure, so he
hurriedly put on his clothes and set out on a run for Colonel Zane's house.
The first person whom he saw was the odd negro slave, who was brushing one of
the Colonel's horses.

Sam was deliberate and took his time about everything. He slowly looked up and
surveyed Clarke with his rolling eyes. He did not recognize in him any one he
had ever seen before, and being of a sullen and taciturn nature, especially
with strangers, he seemed in no hurry to give the desired information as to
Colonel Zane's whereabouts.

"Don't stare at me that way, you damn nigger," said Clarke, who was used to
being obeyed by negroes. "Quick, you idiot. Where is the Colonel?"

At that moment Colonel Zane came out of the barn and started to speak, when
Clarke interrupted him.

"Colonel, I have just pulled a man out of the river who says his name is Zane,
or if he did not mean that, he knows you, for he surely said 'Zane.'"