stretching as far as the eye can reach; course P.M. W.S.W. At 4 P.M. the
"Clumsy," as I have named one of our noggurs, suddenly carried away her
mast close by the board, the huge yard and rigging falling overboard
with the wreck, severely hurting two men and breaking one of their guns.
Hove to by an island on the Shillook side, towed the wreck ashore, and
assembled all the boats. Fortunately there is timber at hand; thus I cut
down a tree for a mast and got all ready for commencing repairs
tomorrow. Poor Johann is, as I had feared, dying; he bleeds from the
lungs, and is in the last stage of exhaustion. Posted six sentries.

30th Dec.--Johann is in a flying state, but sensible; all his hopes,
poor fellow, of saving money in my service and returning to Bavaria are
past. I sat by his bed for some hours; there was not a ray of hope; he
could speak with difficulty, and the flies walked across his glazed
eyeballs without his knowledge. Gently bathing his face and hands, I
asked him if I could deliver any message to his relatives. He faintly
uttered, "I am prepared to die; I have neither parents nor relations;
but there is one--she--" he faltered. He could not finish his sentence,
but his dying thoughts were with one he loved; far, far away from this
wild and miserable land, his spirit was transported to his native
village, and to the object that made life dear to him. Did not a shudder
pass over her, a chill warning at that sad moment when all was passing
away? I pressed his cold hand, and asked her name. Gathering his
remaining strength he murmured, "Krombach" [Krombach was merely the name
of his native village in Bavaria.] . . . "Es bleibt nur zu sterben."
"Ich bin sehr dankbar." These were the last words he spoke, "I am very
grateful." I gazed sorrowfully at his attenuated figure, and at the now
powerless hand that had laid low many an elephant and lion, in its day
of strength; and the cold sweat of death lay thick upon his forehead.
Although the pulse was not yet still, Johann was gone.