17.

The worst of it had lasted for four almost unbearable days, and then he awoke in the morning

of the fifth one with his shirt damp from sweat.

The blanket of fur felt good wrapped around him,

but he was not cold like he had been. Now it was merely comfortable to be wrapped tightly beside the

fire. Often he had fed the fire, and he must have, lest it would have died, but he did not recall

doing it. His pants were dry, so he must have risen and

relieved himself during those days, but he did not remember getting up. It took ten more days

of steady improvement before he felt more or less back to normal, but he ate regularly whether

he was particularly hungry or not, and he rested often,

and then soon enough he felt his strength returning to him.

After watering his neglected potatoes, he stretched out in the bright mid-morning sunlight

and lay his face to the sun. A lightly resting forearm covered his eyes. He turned his head and glanced

over his left shoulder. Just down the ridge a little ways lay a pool that was fed by the small

creek and spring. He gave thought to going down there later and getting in. It was comfortably

cool now, but it would be warm by the

middle of the afternoon. And the pool, though deepened and widened in recent summers, was still

shallow enough that the water warmed quickly with its surroundings. He could use a bath.

Aside from rinsing his face off a couple of times,

Rubin had not bathed since before the sickness befell him.

But that wasn't why he was thinking about the pool.

He was lying in the sun and was comfortable, but he was also bored.

...