CHAPTER 2: Friends In Need.
It was not to be surprised at that, after that terrible day and night, Charles should awake from the restless sleep into which he had dropped towards dawn in a state of high fever.
He lay raving in delirium for three days, whilst Humphrey sat beside him, putting water to his parched lips, striving to soothe and quiet him; often shuddering with horror as he seemed to see again with his brother's eyes those horrid scenes upon which the fevered man's fancy ever dwelt; waking sometimes at night in a sweat of terror, thinking he heard the Indian war whoop echoing through the forest.
Those were terrible days for Humphrey--days of a loneliness that was beyond anything he had experienced before.

His brother was near him in the flesh, but severed from him by a whole world of fevered imaginings.

Sometimes Humphrey found it in his heart to wish that the Indians would come back and make a final end of them both.

All hope and zest and joy in life seemed to have been taken from him at one blow.

He could neither think of the happy past without pangs of pain, nor yet face a future which seemed barren of hope and promise.
He could only sit beside his brother, tend him, nurse him, pray for him.