THE LAST SIGHT OF EARTH. 221

My eyes had sunk to the prairie level, and rested
upon the still bleeding victims of my cruelty. My
heart smote me at the sight. Raising my eyes to
heaven, I gazed upward with earnestness known
only to the hearts of men in positions of peril like
mine. As I continued to look up, an object attracted
my attention. Against the sky I distinguished the
outline of a large bird. I knew it to be the obscene
bird of the plains, the buzzard-vulture. Whence had
it come? Who knows? Far beyond the reach of
human eye, it had seen or scented the slaughtered
antelopes, and on broad, silent wing was now de-
scending to the feast of death. Presently another,
and another, and many others, mottled the blue
field of the heavens, curving and wheeling silently
earthward. Then the foremost swooped down upon
the bank, and, after gazing round for a moment,
flapped off toward its prey. In a few seconds the
prairie was black with filthy birds, who clambered
over the dead antelopes, and beat their wings
against each other, while they tore out the eyes of
the quarry with their foetid beaks. . .

“TI was soon relieved from the sight. My eyes
had sunk below the level of the bank. I had
looked my last on the fair green earth! I could
now sce only the clayey wall that contained the
river and the water, that ran, unheeding, past me.
Once more I fixed my gaze upon the sky, and, with