From this time my progress towards complete recovery was rapid.

The air, with or without any medicinal virtue blown from the cinchona trees in the far-off Andean forest, was tonic; and when I took my walks on the hillside above the Indian village, or later when able to climb to the summits, the world as seen from those wild Queneveta mountains had a largeness and varied glory of scenery peculiarly refreshing and delightful to the soul.
With the Maquiritari tribe I passed some weeks, and the sweet sensations of returning health made me happy for a time; but such sensations seldom outlast convalescence.

I was no sooner well again than I began to feel a restless spirit stirring in me.

The monotony of savage life in this place became intolerable.

After my long listless period the reaction had come, and I wished only for action, adventure--no matter how dangerous; and for new scenes, new faces, new dialects.