29 
monosyllable in answer to questions put to him. He would generally, however, take no 
notice of anything said to him. I twice asked him this morning if he still had pain in his 
neck, to which he replied, no. 
“ The native doctor appeared to think that he was suffering from acute bronchitis and 
inflammation of the lungs, hut from what Biddulph and myself had seen of Ins previous 
illness, it was clear that the disease was the same as the former one, viz., what is known 
as spinal meningitis. On the doctor’s advice, however, a blister was placed this morning on 
his right side. He continued up till noon in a semi-unconscious state, occasionally taking 
a little chicken broth and a little brandy mixed up in the cough mixture. He did not 
appear to be better or worse, generally making about 50 respirations in the minute, 
irregular, however, and very often alternately deep and heavy and short and. light ; the 
respiration throughout the day was always accompanied by a rattling noise, somewhat 
resembling that of a ripple on the sea shore or the noise of a troop file-firing in the distance. 
Later it appeared to me that the rattle was more continuous, although less loud, and the 
breathing somewhat easier. 
“ About 2 p.m. he made a gesture that he wanted to sit up ; he was accordingly moved to a 
chair and I gave him some port wine, but his appearance was so ghastly and he was in such 
“ a state of exhaustion that I called in Biddulph from the next tent. B., thinking him worse, 
fetched Col. Gordon. Meanwhile, he was moved back to his bed ; he tried to sit up, and I 
got behind him to support him. Meanwhile the Colonel came in. llic lattling noise 
ceased, but he still breathed deeply ; his respiration grew slowmr and slower, as also did his 
“ Pulse, and he finally breathed liis last, dying so quietly that it was impossible to say at 
what precise instant he passed aw r ay. There was no struggle, and he died apparently 
without pain, a quiet and peaceful expression remaining on his countenance after death. 
“ From the time he came in yesterday until he passed away he hardly spoke a word, and 
conversation was, of course, impossible. Occasionally, when looking at me, I would 
observe a very anxious expression of countenance, from which I inferred that he was 
aware of his critical position. In fact, in previous conversations, weeks before, he told me 
that a second attack of meningitis would be bis certain death, it being rare that a first 
attack is recovered from. He took great precautions in clothing, &c. to prevent his 
getting a chill, but the passage of the Karakorum brought on that w'hich he was so anxious 
to avoid. I cannot help thinking that the height had much to do with it, at all events 
aggravated the symptoms ; he had been exposed to far greater cold on the Pamir trip, but 
without the same elevation, and he had not suffered. 
“ Apart from the bitter regret that we must all feel at the loss of one who has been our 
constant companion for so many months, the loss to the scientific world will be very great. 
He made copious notes during our trip to the Pamir, but no one will have the knowledge 
to utilise them as he would have done himself, and it is possible that they may not be in a 
shape to enable an outsider to make competent use of them, and his intended geological 
“ observations between Leh and Simla would, with his previous investigations of Himalayan 
geology, a subject with which he w r as, perhaps, better acquainted than any man living, have 
enabled him to write a most complete and valuable report. I can hardly yet realise his 
“ loss, it has been so sudden and unexpected. It is a most melancholy termination to our 
trip, which would otherwise have been so successful. 
“ There was, as I told you, no opportunity for him to communicate his wishes or to send 
“ messages to his family. Prom yesterday evening he has been in a state of semi-uncon- 
