dreams of this wondrous land, with its ancient cities, and thinks
that these may be the death dreams that are to lull him to his
eternal rest.

He is suddenly awakened from his dreams by a horrible sensation. It
is hunger, the hunger that rages within him. It is thirst that
parches his lips. The soul wishes to die, but the body calls the man
back to life, and appeals to him so loudly, so vehemently, that he
cannot but listen to its voice.

He resists with all his might. He will conquer. This miserable
hunger, this despicable thirst; he will not heed the pains that rend
his body, he will be strong, and a hero, in death at least.

Convulsively he clings to the rock as if to a support against the
allurements that strive to draw him out into life. But the voice of
the world appeals to him, in louder and louder tones, and fearful
are the torments he is undergoing.

The spirit must at last succumb to the demands of Nature. He rises
to give to the body what of right belongs to the body, nourishment,
drink and food.

He creeps to the entrance, and is so weak that he can hardly pass
through the opening, which he had formerly made still narrower, that
no one might discover it. He is so weak that he can scarcely stand
upright; his swollen lips are bleeding; his brain is burning, and he
sinks down upon a rock. A kindly voice now calls him. He hears it,
but lacks the strength to answer.