r. When he
awoke to stay awake the day was far advanced, and he felt an
overwhelming lassitude. He slowly unwound himself from his blankets and
looked at his hand. It was uncommonly white, and it seemed to him to be
as weak as that of a child.

He crept out of the thicket and rose to his feet. He was attacked by
dizziness and clutched a bush for support. His head still ached, though
not with the violence of the night before, but he was conscious that he
had become a very weak and poor specimen of the human being. Everything
seemed very far away, impossible to be reached.

He gathered strength enough to roll up his blankets and shoulder his
rifle. Then he looked about a little. There was the same alternation of
woods and prairie, devoid of any human being. He did not expect to see
any Texans, unless, by chance, Fannin came marching that way, but a
detachment of Mexican lancers might stumble upon him at any moment. The
thought, however, caused him no alarm. He felt so much weakness and
depression that the possibility of capture or death could not add to it.

Young Fulton was not hungry,--the chill and following fever had taken
his appetite away so thoroughly,--but he felt that he must eat. He found
some early berries in the thickets and they restored his strength a
little, but the fare was so thin and unsubstantial that he decided to
look for game. He could never reach Fannin or anybody else in his
present reduced condition.

He saw a line of oaks, which he knew indicated the presence of a
water-course, probably one of the shallow creeks, so numerous in Eastern
Texas, and he walked toward it, still dizzy and his footsteps dragging.
His head was yet aching, and the sun, which was now out in full
brightness, made it worse, but he persisted, and, after an interminable
time, he reached the shade of the oaks, which, as he surmised, lined
both sides of a creek.

He drank of the water, rested a while, and then began a search of the
oaks. He was looking for squirrels, which he knew abounded in these
trees, and, after much slow and painful walking, he shot a fine fat one
among the boughs. Then followed the yet more mighty task of kindling a
fire with sticks and tinder, but just when he was completely exhausted,
and felt that he must fail, the spark leaped up, set fire to the white
ash that he had scraped with his knife, and in a minute later a good
fire was blazing.

He cooked the tenderest parts of the squirrel and ate, st