CHAP. L] 
JOHANN'S DEATH 
29 
my service and returning to Bavaria are past. I sat 
by his bed for some hours; there was not a ray of 
Jiope; he could speak with difficulty, and the flies 
walked across his glazed eyeballs without his know¬ 
ledge. Gently bathing his face and hands, I asked 
him if I could deliver any message to his relatives. 
He faintly uttered, “I am prepared to die; I have 
neither parents nor relations; but there is one—she 
—he faltered. He could not finish his sentence, but 
his dying thoughts were with one he loved; far, far 
a,way from this wild and miserable land, his spirit was 
transported to his native village, and to the object 
that made life dear to him. Did not a shudder pass 
over her, a chill warning at that sad moment when 
all was passing away ? I pressed his cold hand, and 
asked her name. Gathering his remaining strength 
he murmured, “ Krombach ” * ... “ Es bleibt nur zu 
sterben.” “ Ich bin sehr dankbar.” These were the 
last words he spoke, “ I am very grateful.” I gazed 
sorrowfully at his attenuated figure, and at the now 
powerless hand that had laid low many an elephant 
and lion, in its day of strength; and the cold sweat 
of death lay thick upon his forehead. Although the 
pulse was not yet still, Johann was gone. 
31st Dec .—Johann died. I made a huge cross with 
my own hands from the trunk of a tamarind tree, and 
by moonlight we laid him in his grave in this lonely 
spot. 
“ Ko useless coffin enclosed his breast, 
Kor in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; 
But he lay like a pilgrim taking his rest, 
With his mantle drawn around him.” 
This is a mournful commencement of the voyage. 
Poor fellow, I did all I could for him although that 
was but little ; and hands far more tender than mine 
ministered to his last necessities. This sad event 
closes the year 1862. Made sail at 8.30 p.m., the 
repairs of ship being completed. 
* Krombach was merely the name of his native village in Bavaria. 
