I diagnosed his case as well as I was able and began to treat him, but it was evident that he was so far gone that I could not expect him to recover. My conscience smote me for having left him, yet I felt that I had not done wrong. It was not neglect or cruelty for me to leave him while I went in pursuit of the chief object of my search, and I had no cause to reproach myself for having done so. But emotions that are stirred by such incidents are not to be controlled by reason or hushed by argument, and the pain caused me was more than I can tell. If I had done wrong, the only restitution possible for me to make was to nurse him patiently and tenderly to the end, or till health and strength should return. This was conscientiously done, and I have the comfort of knowing that the last sad days of his life were soothed by every care that kindness could suggest. Hour after hour during that time he lay silent and content upon my lap. That appeared to be a panacea to all his pains. He would roll up his dark brown eyes and look into my face, as if to be assured that I had been restored to him. With his long fingers he stroked my face as if to say that he was again happy. He took the medicines I gave him as if he knew their purpose and effect. His suffering was not intense, and he bore it like a philosopher. He seemed to have some vague idea of his own condition, but I do not know that he foresaw the result. He lingered on from day to day for a whole week, slowly sinking and growing feebler; but his love for me was manifest to the last, and I dare confess that I returned it with all my heart. Is it wrong that I should requite such devotion and fidelity with reciprocal emotion? No. I should not deserve the love of any creature if I were indifferent to the love of Moses. That affectionate little creature had lived with me in the dismal shadows of that primeval forest for many long days and dreary nights; had romped and played with me when far away from the pleasures of home; and had been a constant friend, alike through sunshine and storm. To say that I did not love him would be to confess myself an ingrate and unworthy of my race. The last spark of life passed away in the night. Death was not attended by acute pain or struggling; but, falling into a deep and quiet sleep, he woke no more. Moses will live in history. He deserves to do so, because he was the first of his race that ever spoke a word of human speech; because he was the first that ever conversed in his own language with a human being; and because he was the first that ever signed his name to any document. Fame will not deny him a niche in her temple among the heroes who have led the races of the world. CHAPTER XV Aaron--His Capture--Mental Powers--Acquaintance with Moses--His Conduct during Moses’ Illness