CHAPTER XII. 
RECOVERED. 
The sun had risen when I woke. I had slept, and y 
horrified as the idea flashed upon me that she must be 
dead, and that I had not been with her, I started up. 
She lay upon her bed, pale as marble, and with that 
calm serenity that the features assume when the cares 
of life no longer act upon the mind, and the body rests 
in death. The dreadful thought bowed me down ; but 
as I gazed upon her in fear, her chest gently heaved, 
not with the convulsive throbs of fever, but naturally. 
She was asleep; and when at a sudden noise she opened 
her eyes, they were calm and clear. She was saved! 
When not a ray of hope remained, God alone knows 
what helped us. The gratitude of that moment I will 
not attempt to describe. 
Fortunately there were many fowls in this village; 
we found several nests of fresh eggs in the straw which 
littered the hut; these were most acceptable after our 
hard fare, and produced a good supply of soup. 
Having rested for two days, we again moved forward,. 
Mrs. Baker being carried on a litter. We now con¬ 
tinued on elevated ground, on the north side of a valley 
running from west to east, about sixteen miles broad, 
and exceedingly swampy. The rocks composing the 
ridge upon which we travelled due west were all gneiss 
and quartz, with occasional breaks, forming narrow 
valleys, all of which were swamps choked with immense 
