because no other person had seen them. The truth of this seemed now to be confirmed by the testimony of my own senses; but, if the rumour were true, there still existed another of these animals, who might harbour in the obscurities of this desert, and against whom it was necessary to employ some precaution: henceforth I resolved never to traverse the wilderness unfurnished with my tomahawk.
These images, mingled with those which the contemplation of futurity suggested, floated for a time in my brain; but at length gave place to sleep.
CHAPTER XIII.
Since my return home, my mind had been fully occupied by schemes and reflections relative to Clithero. The project suggested by thee, and to which I had determined to devote my leisure, was forgotten, or remembered for a moment, and at wide intervals. What, however, was nearly banished from my waking thoughts, occurred in an incongruous and half-seen form to my dreams. During my sleep, the image of Waldegrave flitted before me. Methought the sentiment that impelled him to visit me was not affection or complacency, but inquietude and anger: some service or duty remained to be performed by me, which I had culpably neglected; to inspirit my zeal, to awaken my remembrance, and incite me to the performance of this duty, did this glimmering messenger, this half-indignant apparition, come.
I commonly awake soon enough to mark the youngest dawn of the morning; now, in consequence perhaps of my perturbed sleep, I opened my eyes before the stars had lost any of their lustre: this circumstance produced some surprise, until the images that lately hovered in my fancy were recalled, and furnished somewhat like a solution of the problem. Connected with the image of my dead friend, was that of his sister: the discourse that took place at our last interview—the scheme of transcribing, for thy use, all the
