Publisher's Synopsis
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1916 edition. Excerpt: ...When you are better we can talk over something. I want a partner, and I like your face." The next day Petko set out. He remained in Burgos two weeks when the claims of a mountain village on the Shipka Balkan attracted him, and he set off again, chasing health round Bulgaria. He had a companion, a Dalmatian, named Mecho. They tramped along enjoying the autumn weather, clambering higher and higher into the mountains. "Ha," cried Petko, filling his lungs with the fresh air from the Black Sea. "If that doesn't cure me?" Mecho tramped along. "We'll have to keep at it if we're going to reach that village to-night," he grumbled. The sun sank, bringing a sudden chill into the night air. Petko hugged his clothes tighter, his teeth began to rattle. "What is the matter?" asked Mecho. "Fever coming," chattered Petko. "You'll have to push on," said Mecho. Petko stumbled up-hill, every moment the control of his limbs grew weaker and weaker. His legs would not do as he wished, not that he could wish with much energy, the fever filled his brain. Still he stumbled on. Suddenly he fell forward on the ground, and lay clawing at the turf. "Come on," said Mecho. Petko made ineffectual attempts to rise. "I--I--it is no good, Mecho," he stuttered at last. "I can't get up." Mecho unshouldered his pack and sat down. "Will you be better in half an hour?" he asked. "I hope so," answered Petko. The fever was shaking his whole body. Dusk had fallen, and the trees now showed only like gloomy giants on the hillside. The world seemed to be swallowed up in a necromancer's pool of ink--dark, unreflecting, terribly mysterious. Suddenly Mecho...
