WETT STEIN. 91 



and soon went down again in the eddy, and 

 Klitschka was free. 



"Adieu, Herr Oberist; tenez Klitschka pour 

 vous ! Adieu ! " And that happy, honest face 

 sank almost within reach of me. The weight of 

 his arms prevented his rising again, and only an 

 angry eddy, glistening in the moonlight, marked 

 his turbid grave. 



Ruby, snorting, and struggling hard with the 

 current, pulled me safely to the shore, and little 

 Klitschka followed as well as her loaded saddle 

 would permit. For the moment, with my own 

 life and the lives of two tried companions to 

 care for, I thought of nothing else ; but as I sat 

 drying at Magnus's roaring hearth the direst deso- 

 lation overwhelmed me. Very far from home, — 

 far even from the home-like surroundings of my 

 own camp, — I had clung to this devoted fellow 

 as a part of myself. He was a proven friend ; 

 with him I never lacked the sympathy that, in 

 the army at least, is born of constant compan- 

 ionship, and he filled a place in my life that 

 dearer friends at home might not find. He 



