Almost overcome with fatigue he decided to sit down, and then his paddle assumed the character of a companion, remonstrating with him and advising him to move on.
"I think I'll sit down here," Boyton would say.
"Indeed you won't," answered the paddle.
"But I must." "If you do you will die.

Come on." Endeavoring to obey the commands of the paddle he continued to stagger on, falling at every few steps; but regaining his feet and pressing forward.

Intense thirst consumed him and he went often to the brink of the river and drank quantities of water, burying his face in the muddy stream; the paddle all the while urging him to move on.

Along the top of the dyke he came upon three posts placed for the purpose of keeping cattle from getting off the road.

These posts became sneering, laughing men, wearing cloaks flung across their breasts, Italian fashion.