At one moment, Antón raised his gaze, and before him, perched upon the pointed leaf of a _cocoyol_, found that he, at last, had a companion in that loneliness; it was a buzzard, which looked at him fixedly, moving his neck regularly, up and down, as one who meditates. The presence of that living being caused Antón a vague sensation of comfort; that, even, was much, at the end of so long and complete abandonment, to see in his last moments that he was not alone in the world. He then fell into a syncope,--condition which now came on more frequently and lasted, each time longer, sign that his agony was nearing its end. On returning to himself, he mechanically turned his gaze to the palm-tree and saw that now there was not only one, but three, of the buzzards, which with the same nodding movement of the neck, and with no less attention, looked at him. A sinister and dreadful thought shot through his sluggish brain; those birds were there, in expectation of his death, to devour him. Then, a horror of death seized him; a shudder of dread passed through his nerves, and he longed that his miserable existence might be prolonged, with the hope that some human being might draw near and discover him. The nervous disturbance, which that idea produced, provoked a new unconsciousness. On recovery, he could see that not three, but a considerable number of vultures had settled on the palm and on the neighboring trees. He believed they might take him for already dead, and to let them see that he was not, he attempted to raise and move his left arm, which, with enormous effort, he succeeded in doing. The scavengers seemed to understand their error since they looked at one another, exchanging guttural croakings. But night,--last refuge to which Antón trusted against the danger of being torn to pieces, while yet alive,--showed no signs of approach. It was now his duty to preserve the little remaining life. The vultures, on the contrary, ought to be impatient to gorge themselves with the banquet which they had before them, since others were constantly arriving, hovering, and settling, on the neighboring tree-tops, where they formed moving spots of black. One, bolder than the rest, descended from the branch, on which he rested, to the ground and, like an explorer, was cautiously approaching Antón, who, divining, in his last gleams of lucidity, the purpose of the bird, renewed the effort, which he had made before, and continued to raise and, even, shake, his arm and to bend his undamaged leg, at the moments, when the buzzard stretched out his neck to give the first peck. The carrion-eater drew back his head and retreated a few steps, but did not take to flight. Encouraged by this his companions descended, one by one, from the tree and took possession of the space around, forming a semi-circle at the foot of the oak-tree.