Mr. Eyre raised the dying man from the ground where he was lying
prostrate, and he then found that a ball had entered his left breast, and
that his life was fast departing. In a few minutes he expired!
What were the feelings of the lonely traveller! Here he was in the midst
of a desert, with no companion but one young savage, and that young
savage was not one whom he could trust; for he knew not what part Wylie
had taken in the deeds of the night. He suspected that he had intended to
go away with the other boys, but that when Baxter was murdered, he had
grown alarmed. Wylie indeed denied that he had known anything of the
robbery, but then he was not a boy whose word could be believed.
The remainder of that dreadful night was passed by Mr. Eyre, in watching
the horses. Anxiously he waited for the first streak of daylight. He then
drove the horses to the camp, and once more beheld the body of his
fellow-traveller. How suddenly had his soul been hurried into eternity,
and into the presence of his God!
It was Wylie's business to light the fire, and prepare the breakfast.
Meanwhile, Mr. Eyre examined the baggage to see how much had been stolen.
These were the chief articles he missed. All the bread, consisting of
five loaves, some mutton, tea and sugar, tobacco and pipes, a small keg
of water, and two guns. And what was left for the traveller? A large
quantity of flour, a large keg of water, some tea and sugar, a gun, and
pistols.
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