“That’s just it! I didn’t want to tell you right away, but now I can’t help it. We can’t start back to camp because--because--” Miguel hesitated as if reluctant to proceed. “We can’t start back because I’m lost, too.” CHAPTER XV THE CHARGE OF THE INDIANS When Miguel admitted that he, too, was lost, the intelligence came as a great shock to David. One of his first thoughts upon seeing his rescuer was that at last his aimless, heart-breaking wanderings in the forest had come to an end. The walk back to camp might be of several days’ duration, but that did not matter. It made a difference whether one was walking in hopeless desperation because there was nothing else to do, or whether there was a definite goal to reach and one had the assurance of being on the right track. Now they were little better off than before. However, he suppressed the bitter disappointment he felt and tried to smile. “How did that happen?” he asked. “I thought you couldn’t lose your way.” “It was the fever,” Miguel said dejectedly. “Before that I knew where I was every minute of the time. Now I can’t remember how I got here or how many days I spent wandering around before my head cleared.” “Well, the two of us together ought to find some way of getting out--when I’m able to travel. And it’s better than being all alone.” “Yes, the lonesomeness nearly drove me crazy. It was terrible. It was the one thing I couldn’t stand. Fever, hunger--anything but that.” Miguel turned the bird, which had been impaled on a stick, and when it had browned to a uniform color on all sides he brought it to the tree where David sat and stuck the stick into the ground. They cut off pieces of the tender flesh with their knives, but David’s appetite was not nearly so good as he had thought, while the absence of salt robbed the meat of much of its flavor. “I could open one of the cartridges in my revolver,” he said, “and use the powder for salt; but we might need it more to shoot with before we get out of this.” Miguel agreed that they had better save the ammunition for the purpose for which it was intended. “How do you feel now?” he asked. “I knew I’d feel better, and I do,” David replied. “But the fever left me all wrung out like a wet rag. Wish we had some quinine!” “Quinine is good, but _guanabara_ is better. The root grows in the forest. I hunted for it every day but couldn’t find it. I’ll look again. Maybe there is some near here. But first we need a shelter. We have to stay here a few days at least. You are too weak to walk far. I’ll build a place to sleep first and then I’ll go in search of the medicine.” David wanted to help in the construction of their shelter, but that, of course, was out of the question. Even the sitting posture had tired him so much that he slid to the ground, where he lay watching Miguel as he proceeded to erect the structure that was to house them until they should resume their wandering.