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medicine to give him anyway?
    I thought that since drinking the water had not made him sick again perhaps he should eat something. But what? I decided on soup—chicken soup, since that is what my mother usually gave us when we were sick. I had left some tinned food in the house (it would have looked odd not to) when I moved to the cave, but there was no soup, so I had to walk to the store. I got some other stuff while I was there; I had already decided to move back to the house, but to leave the cave stocked for the time being, just in case. So I had quite a load to carry, and by the time I got back and got a fire going it was nearly dark.
    When I took the soup in to him I found, to my surprise, that he seemed somewhat improved. He was awake, and when I entered he stared, quite bewildered, and with some effort managed to raise himself on one elbow. Then he spoke to me consciously for the first time. His voice was still very weak.
    "I don't know where I am," he said. "Who are you?"
    "You're in the valley," I said. "You've been sick."
    I put the soup down beside him. I had thought I would have to feed it to him.
    "The valley," he said. "I remember now. All the green trees. But there was no one there." He lay back on the pillow again.
    "I was here," I said. "I stayed in the woods." (I thought it better not to mention the cave.) "Then I saw you were sick, and I thought you needed help."
    "Sick," he said. "Yes, very sick."
    "I made you some soup," I said. "Try to eat it."
    He did try, but his hand was so weak he spilled it from the spoon, so in the end I did feed it to him. He ate seven spoonfuls, and then said, "No more. Too sick." He fell asleep again. However, I think even that bit of soup did him some good; he seemed to sleep more naturally, and was not breathing so fast. I had brought a thermometer from the house to take his temperature, but I decided it could wait until morning. I touched his forehead. It was hot all right. From close up, in the dimness of the tent, he looked extremely frail.
    /m
    I went back up to the cave, got my alarm clock, a lamp, this note book and some other things, and came back to the house. I set the alarm for midnight; when it went off I reset it for two o'clock, then for four o'clock. Each time it rang I went out with a torch and looked into the tent to see how he was. Once he woke and asked again for water; I gave him a cupful. The rest of the time he slept steadily.
    This morning I crumbled some of the remaining corn bread in some milk and took it to him for breakfast. (I had to use powdered milk because the cows are still out. I will have to catch them now and bring them back in. Also the chickens.)
    This time he seemed very much better. His eyes had lost the dazed look they had had earlier. He thanked me for the bread and milk and was able to spoon it out himself. After he finished eating it he actually sat up for a moment; then he lay back again and said:
    "I need to find out what made me sick."
    "I think it is because you swam in Burden Creek," I said.
    "Burden Creek?"
    "The stream across the road."
    "You know about that?"
    "I was watching—from a distance away."
    "You know about the water."
    "Nothing lives in it. I don't know-why."
    "I discovered that. But not until the day after I took a bath in it. So stupid to be careless, after all this time. I had not been in water for a year. I was too eager. Still I should have tested. But that other water, in the pond, was all right.
    So I thought…" He stopped and lay quietly for a time. Then he said:
    "I might as well know. Could you—"
    "Could I what?"
    "Do you know what a Geiger counter is?"
    "Those glass tubes you have."
    "Yes. Can you read one?"
    "No. That is, I never have."
    I got the smaller of the tubes out of his wagon, and he showed me a gauge on one end of it, a small needle that wavered a bit when you moved it, like a compass. The dial was numbered from zero to two hundred. As he asked me, I took it across the road to Burden Creek.