ding roused Blake and tried to give him a little
food. He could not eat, however, and soon sank again into a restless
sleep. His companions sat disconsolately beside the fire as night
closed in. Their clothes were damp and splashed with mud, for they had
had to cross a patch of very soft muskeg to gather wood among a clump
of rotting spruces. The wind was searching, the reeds clashed and
rustled drearily, and even the splash of the ripples on a neighboring
pool was depressing. As in turn they kept watch in the darkness their
hearts sank.

The next morning Blake was obviously worse. He insisted irritably that
he would be all right again in a day or two, but the others felt
dubious.

"How often must I tell you that the thing will wear off?" he said.
"You needn't look so glum."

"I thought I was looking pretty cheerful," Harding objected with a
forced laugh. "Anyway, I've been working off my best stories for the
last hour, and I really think that one about the Cincinnati man------"

"You overdo the thing," Blake interrupted crossly; "and the way Benson
grins at your thread-bare jokes would worry me if I were well! Do you
suppose I'm a fool and don't know what you think?" He raised himself on
his elbow, speaking angrily. "Try to understand that this is merely
common malaria! I've had it several times; but it doesn't bother you
when you're out of the tropics. Why, Bertram--very good fellow,
Bertram; so's his father. If anybody speaks against my cousin, let him
look out for me!"

He paused a moment, looking around him dazedly.

"Getting off the subject, wasn't I? Can't think with this pain in my
head and back; but don't worry. Leave me alone; I'll soon be on my
feet again."

Lying down, he turned away from them, and during the next few hours he
dozed intermittently.

Late in the afternoon an Indian reached the camp. He carried a dirty
blue blanket and a few skins and was dressed in ragged white men's
clothes. In a few words of broken English he made them understand that
he was tired and short of food, and they gave him a meal. When he had
finished it, they fell into conversation and Benson, who understood him
best, told Harding that he had been trapping in the neighborhood. His
tribe lived some distance off, and though there were some Stonies not
far away, he would not go to them for supplies. They were, he said,
quarrelsome people.

Harding looked interested.

"Ask the fellow where the villag