A RANCHMAN'S RECOLLECTIONS 



come, Frank. I've seen so many of 'em in my fifty 

 years lay and lay and come through. Wait." 



I went over to my house across the street for a 

 short rest. The boys had followed me about like 

 children; they would squat on their heels along the 

 hall while I was in the sickroom, and when I came 

 out there was that mute appeal, with never a word, 

 but just the anguish of soul, crying for a word, a 

 look of hope. I told "Mage" to call me if there was 

 any change, and asked the doctor not to leave the 

 room. 



I was just sinking into the sleep of exhaustion 

 when I heard Mage knock on the open window, and 

 heard him say, "Frank, come ! Johnnie is about ta 

 go." Then we all gathered about the bedside, a band 

 of stoics, not a tear from hearts bursting with grief, 

 and Johnnie passed into the Great Beyond. Gentle 

 women were there to meet the father and mother 

 when they came, two hours later, and the boys, stand- 

 ing their silent guard of honor, moved out into the 

 hall, leaving them alone with their dead. 



We arranged for starting back with the remains 

 on the following day, but along towards evening rain 

 began to fall. There were two sand rivers to cross 

 which were swollen torrents under a head rise, and 

 it might come down by morning. So it was decided 

 to start at once. Night was falling; there was no 

 time for a service, but the mother said, "I want my 

 boy to have a prayer"; and I lifted up my voice to 



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