About one o'clock
He saw but one Hen and he used up his last ammunition to get that . His daily routine now was a monotony of horror . In the morning , which was his `` well time , '' he prepared a little food for the household and got ready for the night of raging fever by putting a bucket of water on a block at the head of each bunk . About one o'clock , with fearful regularity , the chills would come on , with trembling from head to foot and chattering teeth , and cold , cold , within and without . Nothing seemed to give any warmth -- fire seemed to have lost its power . There was nothing to do but to lie and shake and suffer all the slow torture of freezing to death and shaking to pieces . For six hours it would keep up , and to the torture , nausea lent its horrid aid throughout ; then about seven or eight o'clock in the evening a change would come ; a burning fever set in ; no ice could have seemed cool to him then ; water -- water -- was all he craved , and drank and drank until three or four in the morning , when the fever would abate , and a sleep of total exhaustion followed .