I got up, heated water in our little camp kettle, applied hot cloths to his aching belly, and did everything else that either of us could think of for his relief.

The pain was intense, and we feared that he would surely die, and earnestly prayed all the rest of the night that he might be relieved, and get well.

Towards morning most violent vomiting came on, which continued for thirty hours, or more.

He was not able to walk for three days, and during that time I nursed him, finished jerking the meat, and built a raft of some partly rotten logs, which I found in the vicinity, on which we floated across the river, on the fourth day after our arrival here.

I also looked to the welfare of the mule, and prepared some bags in which to carry our jerk.