“Give him some more nitre.”
The medicine was administered with considerable difficulty for, as the fever progressed Bob fought against taking it, as the stuff was not very pleasant. Still Ned and Jerry knew it was the only thing they had, and they fairly forced Bob to swallow it.
The day was worse than the night, though at times the patient dozed and was quiet. The two youths listened for every sound that might indicate the return of the professor but he did not come. It grew hotter and hotter and then it began to rain.
With the storm came a cloud of mosquitoes that made life miserable for the boys. It was stifling to stay in the tent, yet that was their only refuge. They had mosquito netting, and this kept out the most of the pests, but Ned and Jerry had to make frequent trips to the lake for fresh water, and on these occasions the insects pitched on them with great violence.
Bob grew worse, and the two watchers were much alarmed. They did not know what to do. They only had a little of the nitre left and it did not seem to be doing any good. The truth was Bob needed a much stronger remedy than that which the boys had.
All day long the rain fell and the next night was one of the worst the boys had ever put in. They took turns sitting up with Bob who continually cried for ice water when there was none to be had. Ned and Jerry lived on cold victuals. As for Bob he only sipped a little water now and then.
“Do you think he’ll die?” asked Ned in gloomy accents, as Jerry awoke to take his turn at watching.
“No! Of course not. What makes you think that?”
“Because he doesn’t seem to get any better.”