Sidney opened his knapsack, felt for the driest piece of bread, and, breaking off the driest portion of that, handed it to Raymond. Then he selected a bit for himself and they sat on their blankets and munched the crusts. Even with the most faithful chewing they found it difficult to swallow the morsels, but they persevered and managed to consume nearly all of the pieces which Sidney had apportioned them. Then they opened their blankets on the smoothest bit of ground they could find in the dark, and huddled down in them. Neither boy felt like talking. The reclining position was a relief, for their fatigue was great, but the rest it brought was more a sort of apathy than sleep. They had not been lying long when Raymond began to mutter and talk unintelligibly and frequently started up violently. Sidney spoke to him at such times, but was unable to attract his attention, so finally, when the boy sprang up in such a frenzy, Sidney would reach out and place his hand soothingly on Raymond’s shoulder or his hand, and that always quieted him. That occurred at such frequent intervals that it seemed to Sidney as though it had gone on forever, and would continue without end. He would no more than settle down in his blankets and sink into a delicious stupor when Raymond would jump up and cry out, and he would have to take hold of him to quiet him. So it went with almost mechanical regularity until Sidney was dazed. But extreme exhaustion at length prevailed and both boys lay without moving. That change took place so near morning that when the boys had become quiet they did not wake early as they intended. They did not rouse at all until the sun shone hot upon them, then Sidney opened his eyes. He could not remember at first where he was. His mouth felt queer and stiff and uncomfortably full of something. He looked about, vaguely at first, when his gaze rested on Raymond and it all came back to him. He remembered their flight in the dark from the village, their having taken the wrong road, and their failure to find water. The thought of water brought Sidney’s mind back to his own condition and he realized that the something which filled his mouth so uncomfortably was his tongue, which was badly swollen. That realization made him get up as quickly as he was able. He stood and looked down into the valley. The trail which they had followed by mistake had taken them along the side of the mountain until they were directly above the gorge that narrowed from the upper end of the valley. Down there, glistening in the sun, perhaps two miles away, Sidney saw a thread of water. At the sight he started to plunge down the mountain to reach it, but he had taken no more than two or three steps when he remembered with a shock that he was leaving his brother behind.