Presently the first ray of the sun shot right across the wide plain before us till it reached the faraway crest of one of the tallest of the Suliman Mountains more than a hundred miles away.
"'There it is!' cried the dying man in Portuguese, and pointing with his long, thin arm, 'but I shall never reach it, never.

No one will ever reach it!' "Suddenly, he paused, and seemed to take a resolution.

'Friend,' he said, turning towards me, 'are you there?
My eyes grow dark.' "'Yes,' I said; 'yes, lie down now, and rest.' "'Ay,' he answered, 'I shall rest soon, I have time to rest--all eternity.

Listen, I am dying! You have been good to me.

I will give you the writing.