floors of fresh reeds.

A child with a large belly and glossy dark skin came
close to the stretcher to inspect the wounded man. An
old woman followed, and soon all of them drew about
Demetrio in a circle.

A girl sympathizing with him in his plight brought a
jicara of bluish water. With hands shaking, Demetrio took
it up and drank greedily.

"Will you have some more?"

He raised his eyes and glanced at the girl, whose
features were common but whose voice had a note of
kindness in it. Wiping his sweating brow with the back of
his palm and turning on one side, he gasped:
"May God reward you."

Then his whole body shook, making the leaves of the
stretcher rustle. Fever possessed him; he fainted.

"It's a damp night and that's terrible for the fever,"
said Remigia, an old wrinkled barefooted woman, wear-
ing a cloth rag for a blouse.

She invited them to move Demetrio into her hut.

Pancracio, Anastasio Montanez, and Quail lay down
beside the stretcher like faithful dogs, watchful of their