the welfare of the others; not a moment's manly consideration of the trying duties and exigencies of the case. Lombard, on the other hand, begging day after day to be left, and finally demanding that a council should be called to listen to the sound reasons he could give why his request should be granted.
As he peremptorily refused to make another effort, it was unanimously resolved to leave him. Each one, as he gave his vote aloud, advanced, weeping, and divided with him the few nuts he might have on his person. Lombard received them thankfully, and asked them to kindle a fire beside him, which was done; and that a pot and knife and hatchet might be left. These requests were all silently fulfilled. As he sat, leaning against a tree, with these few articles beside him, so calmly, so methodically preparing for his abandonment, every heart was moved with the deepest pity, and his was the only dry eye there. Each one then bade him an affectionate farewell, with streaming eyes, and took his place in the file in marching order. He then requested that Mr. Kettlewell might write down his last wishes and pray with him. Kettlewell took down his few requests, and then kneeling, offered up a short prayer. Lombard, to whom the parting, now that it was to be taken forever, grew more agonizing, requested him to ask Truxton to come back once more, and bid him good-by. The latter slowly traversed the silent, motionless file, to the head, till he came to Truxton. Emaciated and wan, his clothes patched with bark, and hanging, in tatters about him, this noble young commander stood leaning on his carbine, the tears one by one trickling down his haggard face. All his sympathies were aroused, and every pulse quickened into momentary action under the excitement of sorrow, but he refused to go back. He dared not trust himself again. Besides, the scene was too painful to continue—the sooner it terminated the better. The order to march was therefore passed down the file, and the party—dwindled to thirteen—mournfully moved away, and left Lombard alone in the wilds of Darien. That was the last ever seen of him. How long he lived—whether he ever struggled again for life, or whether he flung himself into the river, on the very verge of which he insisted on being placed, was never known. His boatswain's silver whistle, worth some four or five dollars, was government property, and when some one advanced to take it from him, he begged earnestly that it might remain, saying he had carried it the whole route, and could not bear to part with it now. It was the last companion that remained to him, and it was left in his possession. It had sounded its last call, and rests by the bones of its owner in those rarely-trod solitudes.
He had come on from Norfolk, for the express purpose of accompanying Strain in this expedition. The latter told him he was too old to attempt it, and offered to get him some petty office on board ship, but he would not take a refusal, and now sleeps where the sound of civilization will probably never be heard.
That day's march was a silent and sad one; but the feelings of the depressed and debilitated party were much relieved in the after part of the day by coming on the "Camp Beautiful" of their downward march. Shout after shout went up as they entered it, and the bright green bank and scarlet blossoms that enlivened the forest presented such a contrast to the gloomy wilderness they had so long traversed, that they seemed to be entering once more the borders of civilization. Besides, this was the first downward camp they had met for several days, and it seemed like the face of an old friend.
Miller, Boggs, and Garland were the last to straggle in; and being prostrated, and scarcely able to move, it was resolved to rest here for an hour and recruit. A fire was kindled on the old spot, and many reminiscences recalled of the time they last encamped there. Strain and his party naturally became again the topic of conversation, and many regrets uttered over his probable doom. A few unripe acid nuts had been gathered on the way, which were divided; while a terrapin, caught by Corporal O'Kelly, was made into soup, and given to the three sick men. Revived by this, the latter announced themselves ready to march, and slowly struggling to their feet, fell into order. From this time on it was with great difficulty the officers could induce the men to rouse in the morning. Threats, and kicks even, were resorted to, to induce them to stir; and but for the tea which the officers made for them, it would have been almost impossible to have succeeded with any efforts.
Continuing the march about sunset, some palmetto was obtained, which being the first which had been met since the 6th instant, was thankfully welcomed. Soon after, the party encamped near the river, though access to it was difficult. "Mr. Garland still suffering severely, and applying cold water. Mr. Boggs very sick; and Miller's thigh much excoriated"—is the remark noted on the journal of the condition of things in this camp. The party supped on palmetto and roasted nuts. The time had now nearly arrived when rain might be anticipated; and the journal kept by the main body remarks in this place—"We have remarked for some days the cloudy state of the atmosphere, and rain has fallen at intervals, but not in such quantities as to excite uneasiness in regard to the approach of the rainy season: if that catches us on the Isthmus our knell is knolled. The weather now reminds us of Indian summer at home."
"Thursday, March 16. At daylight, all who were able went to work to cut down some palmettoes which were found in the vicinity of the camp. The trees were small, and the scanty supply which they yielded was carried until breakfast time." During the march Mr. Truxton lost his revolver from the holster, while cutting a path for the party through the jungle. The journal states, during the first portion
