And he was so proud of himself that Stasch scarcely liked to make him leave the ill-smelling carcass behind, instead of bringing it to Nell.
When they both returned they found a large fire in the bivouac, water boiling in the pots, and the meal being cooked. Nell had put on dry clothing, but she looked so pale and ill that Stasch was startled and took her hand, to make sure whether or not she was feverish.
“Nell, what is the matter?” asked he.
“Nothing, Stasch; I am only very sleepy.”
“I believe it, after such a night! Thank goodness, you have cold hands. Oh, what a night that was! Of course you must be sleepy—I am sleepy, too. But don’t you feel well?”
“I have a slight headache.”
Stasch laid his hand on her forehead. The little head was cold like the hands, but that was a sign of unusual exhaustion and weakness, and so the boy sighed and said:
“You must now have something hot to eat, and then you must lie down and sleep until evening. At least the weather is good to-day, and not likely to be as it was yesterday.”
But Nell gazed at him with terror.
“We surely are not going to spend the night here?”