It is all bare and windy, and one
generally stops at a rest-house nearby for something to eat. I
got out and took both dogs with me, while Kadir Buksh made tea. A
soldier told, us we should find Stanley "out there," nodding his
head towards a bare, bleak hill.
When we climbed to the top we spied that very Stanley, who had
given me all this trouble, sitting on a rock with his face in his
hands, and his overcoat hanging loose about him. I never saw
anything so lonely and dejected in my life as this one little
man, crumpled up and thinking, on the great gray hillside.
Here Garm left me.
He departed without a word, and, so far as I could see, without
moving his legs. He flew through the air bodily, and I heard the
whack of him as he flung himself at Stanley, knocking the little
man clean over. They rolled on the ground together, shouting, and
yelping, and hugging. I could not see which was dog and which was
man, till Stanley got up and whimpered.
He told me that he had been suffering from fever at intervals,
and was very weak.
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