He sat down with his back to the rock, his rifle
leaning up near by, pulled his old worn hat over his eyes, and suffered
an agony of sickness. He realized that life was leaving his body, and
there he sat with no power to move and no desire to make an effort. It
seemed as if he could see plain before him all the trail from where he
sat, back over all the deserts, mountains and rivers to the old place in
Illinois. He entirely forgot the present, and seemed unconscious of
everything but the pictures of the past. The mind seemed growing freer
from its attachment to the body and at liberty to take in his whole past
life, and bright scenes that had gone before. How long he sat thus he
knows not. His companion was fortunate in finding water, and when he had
refreshed himself he set out to find poor Tom of whom he could see
nothing. Going toward where he heard the shot he followed on till he saw
him at the rock, almost doubled up, with his face concealed by his hat.
"O! Tom!" said he, but there came no answering motion, and going nearer
he called again and still no answer and no sign. Poor Tom had surely
passed on to the better land, thought he, and salvation was so near. He
approached and lifted the hat rim. There was a movement of the eyes, a
quivering of the muscles of the face, and a sort of semi-unconscious
stare such as precedes approaching dissolution.
Quickly holding back his head he poured water between his lips from his
canteen and it was swallowed.
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