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hug him, and ask his forgiveness but couldn't move.

Marcus stayed out there for a long while, staring sadly into the embers.

In the morning Marcus discovered red splotches on his feet and complained that they were very painful. Karl looked worried.

'It's not good, not good at all,' he said. 'Those splotches are liable to spread all over your feet. That happened once to a friend of mine. It got so bad, he couldn't walk, and we had to carry him over our shoulders. I hope you haven't got the same thing.'

Marcus was frightened by what Karl said and rubbed petroleum jelly all over his feet.

We tramped briskly on that day, and Marcus managed to keep up with our pace. Kevin's mood improved.

'At least we can still go down the river,' he said.

At noon Karl spotted a pavo, a wild fowl something like a turkey. It was sitting on one of the branches of a tall tree. Karl hushed us, crept forward stealthily, and took careful aim. The shot and cry rang out together.

'I hit it! I got it!' he shouted gleefully, and ran between the trees to retrieve the bird.

Then we heard cries of fright and pain.

'Ay! Ach!'

He burst through the foliage and ran like crazy for the river, jumped into the water, got back out, and came quickly over to us, rubbing himself all over.