I was at his side in a moment, and I released his neck from the slips.

It was too late; his languid head fell heavily upon the earth; he gave me one parting look, and after a few faint gasps he was gone.
I could hardly believe he was dead.

Taking off my cap, I ran to a little stream and brought some water, which I threw in his face; but his teeth were set, his eyes were glazed, and the best and truest dog that was ever born was dead.

Poor Killbuck! he had died like a hero, and though I grieved over him, I could not have wished him a more glorious death.
I was obliged to open him to discover the real injury.

I had little thought that the knife which had so often come to his assistance was destined to so sad a task.