t
almost destitute of doctors and medicine. The sentries, selected from
the strongest of the troops, could barely stand, staggering even under
the weight of their muskets. Privates and officers alike were prostrate,
and a score of strong men could have killed them all without effort.

As it chanced, the enemy, stationed in an adjoining valley, though
suffering less severely, were in no condition to make an attack, and the
two parties could do no more than idly watch each other.

Ordering his men to dismount, Quilca went to find an officer, and soon
returned with the startling intelligence that the colonel himself lay
dangerously ill in one of the huts.

"Not an encouraging start!" I remarked.

"A bad beginning often makes a good ending," answered Jose cheerfully.
"Let us go to see him."

The doctor, a Spaniard, was attending his patient when we entered the
hut, and he beckoned us toward the bed.

I could not repress a start at the sight which met our eyes. The colonel
was turning restlessly but feebly from side to side; his eyes were
unnaturally bright; his cheek bones stood out sharp and prominent. He
mumbled to himself in short snatches, but so faintly that only a word
here and there reached us.

Once he smiled pleasantly, saying, "Yes, I see the steeple! Dear old
Wingham!"

I did not at that time understand the allusion, but afterwards it became
plain that he referred to his home, the home of his childhood, a place
called Wingham, in Kent.

"Do you know," said Jose sharply, turning to the doctor, "that your
patient is dying?"

"Perfectly; but what can I do?" replied he. "He is suffering from the
tertian ague; the valley is permeated with it."

"We must get him out of it," said Jose, with decision.

"But where will you take him? the town is as bad."

"On shipboard, and give him a sea-breeze."

"The Chilian squadron is absent, cruising."

"Then we must beg, borrow, or steal a trading-vessel; for go he must and
shall."

It was wonderful how the doctor brightened up at these words, and still
more wonderful how he allowed himself to be commanded by a stranger. But
Jose was a strong man though not often exerting his strength, and there
was that in his face which made most men chary of coming to handgrips
with him.

"Come, Jack," said he, "let us go to the bay and find a ship, if we wish
to save the colonel's life. Another week of this pestilence and he will
be dead, and Peru can't afford to l