"Jackson's ill," said Percival, curtly.
Mackay started and turned on his elbow.
"Ill?"
"Fever, I'm afraid. Not bad; just a touch of it. He's in the other hut."
"I'm sorry for that," said Mackay, lying down again.
"So am I. He is the steadiest man among them. How the rain pours! Pollard is sitting with him."
There was a little silence, after which Percival spoke again.
"Are you keeping count of the days? How long is it since we landed?"
"Sixteen days."
"Is that all? I thought it had been longer."