“The memory of this tale came back to me, as I say, vividly—and indeed it had been the common talk of every port along the coasts of the Southern Indies this two months past—and I pointed inquiringly to the poor fellow as he languished and lay dying at my feet, and then swept my finger northward as if determining that to be the direction whence he came. Whereat he nodded, and then swung his hand southward again, as if to say that now he sailed from the opposite direction. Then reluctantly, as it were, he drew from his breast the scroll which I have here set aside for your care and consideration, and I beheld for the first time those symbols and the presentation of that wondrous beast which are to me now as the alphabet for familiarity. As he gave me the relic, he feebly took from his wrist the golden bracelet which hung haggard thereon, and from his neck a string of gold pieces. The armlet he gave to me, and the necklet to Da Suhares, as if in thanks for our consideration which came thus too late. Then with the last throb of strength left in his withered frame he raised himself from the loins, and turning, faced the sun which sank cloud-free and ruddy into the open main. Bowing himself towards its fading glories, he spread abroad his hands with a single word and fell back and died, unconquered remnant of a conquered race. And for a space we stared silently at the dumb dead, wondering, half afraid, but full of pity for his sad case, and of admiration for his uncomplaining end.