he ground; and, with this
hope, I dragged myself painfully out of the cave. It was not twenty
paces from the rocks where the tree grew; yet, with my weakness and the
pain of my wound, I was nearly half an hour in reaching it. To my joy,
I found the ground under it covered with cones. I was not long in
stripping off the rinds of many of them, and getting the seeds, which I
ate greedily, until I had satisfied my hunger.

"But another appetite far more terrible was craving me--I was tortured
with thirst. Could I crawl as far as the camp? I knew that there I
should find water in the stream; and, from the position of the cave, I
knew I could not find it nearer. I must either reach it or die; and,
with this thought to spur me on, I commenced the short journey of three
hundred yards, although I was not certain I might live to see the end of
it. I had not crawled six paces through the underwood, when a bunch of
small white flowers attracted my attention. They were the flowers of
the sorrel-tree--the beautiful lyonia--the very sight of which sent a
thrill of gladness through my heart. I was soon under the tree, and,
clutching one of its lowermost branches, I stripped it of its smooth,
serrated leaves, and eagerly chewed them. Another and another branch
were successively divested of their foliage, until the little tree
looked as if a flock of goats had been breakfasting upon it. I lay for
nearly an hour masticating the soft leaves, and swallowing their
delicious and acid juice. At length my thirst was alleviated, and I
fell asleep under the cool shadow of the lyonia.

"When I awoke again, I felt much stronger, and with new appetite to eat.
The fever which had begun to threaten me was much allayed; and I knew
this was to be attributed to the virtue of the leaves I had eaten--for
besides relieving thirst, the sap of the sorrel-tree is a most potent
febrifuge. Gathering a fresh quantity of the leaves, and tying them
together, I again set out for the pinon-tree. I took the leaves with
me, so that I should not have to make the return trip to the sorrel that
night again. In a few minutes I had reached the end of my journey, and
was busy among the cones. You laugh at my calling it a journey; but I
assure you it was a most painful one to me, although it was not ten
paces from one tree to the other. The slightest motion agonised me.

"That night I passed under the pinon, and in the morning, having made my
breakfast of t