He did not cough, however, but once or twice he tasted warm drops of his heart's blood in his mouth.

Once he drew the back of his hand across his lips mechanically, and a red stain showed upon it.
In his boyhood and early manhood he had been a good sportsman; had been quick of eye, swift of foot, and fearless.

But what could fearlessness avail him in this strait?
With the best of rifles he would have felt himself at a disadvantage.

He was certain his time had come; and with that conviction upon him, the terror of the thing and the horrible physical shrinking almost passed away from him.

The disease, eating away his life, had diminished that revolt against death which is in the healthy flesh of every man.