We must nurse him most carefully; should he have a relapse, nothing will save him." An hour passed, and he slept.

Karka, the fat, good-natured slave woman, quietly went to his side; gently taking him by the ankles and knees, she stretched his legs into a straight position, and laid his arms parallel with his sides.

She then covered his face with a cloth, one of the few rags that we still possessed.

"Does he sleep still ?" we asked.

The tears ran down the cheeks of the savage but good-hearted Karka as she sobbed, "He is dead!" We stopped the boat.