Explore "The Land of the Hibiscus Blossom" by Hume Nisbet on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
NIGGEREE feels a good deal better this morning; one of the peculiarities of the fever he is slowly fighting down is that one day you feel as if it had left entirely, and rise without a trace of the helpless lassitude or ague which seems to be devouring your flesh and bones; then, as you are joking upon the subject, and wondering that you could ever feel so low-spirited, the pluck flies from you, and you sink back sick and faint, or ice-cold and shaking, till every bone rattles, while the perspiration pours like rain from you. No one can tell exactly when he has got rid of it, or when it has seized upon him; a strong, burly man in less than a week may be reduced to skin and bone.
Last night Niggeree could not do more than sip his grog, and for a week before that he had tasted neither food or drink, but to-day, as he springs lightly from his close cabin, when he expected to crawl, to greet that blushing dawn, he finds himself gifted with an appetite both for food and drink, drink particularly, and nothing in the locker to satisfy the tardy craving.