isease, the lips
only open to give utterance to a sigh of pain; life, then, is a burden
that is laid down without reluctance; we glide imperceptibly and
almost voluntarily into eternity.

At twenty years of age, however, when we are full of health and ardor,
the case is very different. Then we are at the threshold of hope and
happiness; our illusions have not had time to fade, the future is a
brilliant meteor sparkling in sunshine. At that age our seas are
always calm, and the rocks and shoals are all concealed. Our barks
glide jauntily along, the sailors sing merrily, the perils are
shrouded in romance, and the flag flutters gaily in the breeze. Then
life is not abandoned without a tear of regret.

To die in the midst of one's friends is not to quit them entirely.
They come to see us through the marble or stone in which we are
shrouded. It is another thing to have no other sepulchre than the
aesophagus of a cannibal. How the recollections of the past darted into
Jack's mind! He felt that he loved those whom he was on the point of
leaving a thousand times more than he did before. What would he not
have given for the power to bid them one last adieu? The idea of
quitting life thus was horrible.

It was in vain that he tried to shake off his assailants; his
adolescent strength was as nothing in the arms of steel that bound
him. He saw that he was powerless in their hands, and at length ceased
making any further attempts to escape.

The savages, finding that he had relaxed his struggles, commenced to
rifle and strip him. They tore off his upper garments, and discovered
a small locket, containing a medallion of his mother, which the
unfortunate youth wore round his neck. This prize, which the savages
no doubt regarded as a talisman of some sort, they both desired to
possess. They quarrelled about it, and commenced fighting over it.
Jack's hands were left at liberty. In an instant he had seized his
rifle. He ran a few paces back, turned, took deliberate aim at the
most powerful of his adversaries, who, with a shriek, fell to the
ground. The other savage, scared by the report of the shot and its
effects upon his companion, took to flight, but he carried off the
locket with him.

Jack had now regained his courage. He felt, like Telemachus in the
midst of his battles, that God was with him, and he flew, perhaps
imprudently, after the fugitive. Seeing, however, that he had no
chance with him as regards speed, he discharge