"Well, I tell you this is no joke. Fun's fun, but if I am going to have the shivers every night I'm going home while I'm able."
Yan said nothing. He was very glum. He felt much as Sam did, but was less ready to give up the outing.
Their blues were nearly dispelled when the warm sun came up, but still they dreaded the coming [315] night.
"Wonder what it is," said Little Beaver.
"'Pears to me powerful like chills and fever and then again it don't. Maybe we drink too much swamp water. I believe we're p'isoned with Guy's cooking."
"More like getting scurvy from too much meat. Let's ask Caleb."
Caleb came around that afternoon or they would have gone after him. He heard Yan's story in silence, then, "Have ye sunned your blankets sense ye came?"
"No."
Caleb went into the teepee, felt the blankets, then grunted: "H-m! Jest so. They're nigh soppin'. You turn in night after night an' sweat an' sweat in them blankets an' wonder why they're damp. Hain't you seen your ma air the blankets every day at home? Every Injun squaw knows that much, an' every other day at least she gives the blankets a sun roast for three hours in the middle of the day, or, failing that, dries them at the fire. Dry out your blankets and you won't have no more chills."
The boys set about it at once, and that night they experienced again the sweet, warm sleep of healthy youth.