rried out into the bright sunshine, Pen following, to
see that she was making straight for the waterfall.

The next minute she had disappeared amongst the trees.

"Well, Punch," cried Pen, as he stepped back to the hut, "feel better
for your breakfast?"

"Better? Yes, of course. But I say, she didn't see me snivelling, did
she?"

"Yes, I think so; and it made her snivel too, as you call it. Of course
she was sorry to see you so weak and bad."

"Ah!" said Punch, after a few moments' silence, during which he had lain
with his eyes shut.

"What is it? Does your wound hurt you?"

"No; I forgot all about it. I say, I should like to give that girl
something, because it was real kind of her; but I ain't got nothing but
a sixpence with a hole in it, and she wouldn't care for that, because
it's English."

"Well, I don't know, Punch. I dare say she would. A good-hearted girl
like that wouldn't look upon its value, but would keep it out of
remembrance of our meeting."

"Think so?" said Punch eagerly, and with his eyes sparkling. "Oh, don't
I wish I could talk Spanish!"

"Oh, never mind that," said Pen. "Think about getting well. But, all
the same, I wish I could make her understand so that she could guide me
to where our fellows are."

"Eh?" cried the boy eagerly. "You ain't a-going to run away and leave
me here, are you?"

"Is it likely, Punch?"

"Of course not," cried the boy. "Never you mind what I say. I get
muddly and stupid in my head sometimes, and then I say things I don't
mean."

"Of course you do; I understand. It's weakness," said Pen cheerily;
"but you are getting better."

"Think so, comrade? You see, I ain't had no doctor."

"Yes, you have. Nature's a fine doctor; and if we can keep in hiding
here a few days more, and that girl will keep on bringing us bread and
milk, you will soon be in marching order; so we are not going to be in
the dumps. We will find our fellows somehow."

"To be sure we will," said Punch cheerfully, as he wrenched himself a
little over, wincing with pain the while.

"What is it, Punch? Wound hurt you again?"

"Yes; horrid," said the boy with a sigh.

"Then, why don't you lie still? You should tell me you wanted to move."

"Yes, all right; I will next time. It did give me a stinger. Sets a
fellow thinking what some of our poor chaps must feel who get shot down
and lie out in the mountains without a comrade to help them--a comrade
like you. I sha