But Bassett's relapses grew more frequent, his brief convalescences
less and less vigorous, his periods of coma longer, until he came
to know, beyond the last promptings of the optimism inherent in so
tremendous a constitution as his own, that he would never live to
cross the grass lands, perforate the perilous coast jungle, and
reach the sea. He faded as the Southern Cross rose higher in the
sky, till even Balatta knew that he would be dead ere the nuptial
date determined by his taboo. Ngurn made pilgrimage personally and
gathered the smoke materials for the curing of Bassett's head, and
to him made proud announcement and exhibition of the artistic
perfectness of his intention when Bassett should be dead. As for
himself, Bassett was not shocked. Too long and too deeply had life
ebbed down in him to bite him with fear of its impending
extinction. He continued to persist, alternating periods of
unconsciousness with periods of semi-consciousness, dreamy and
unreal, in which he idly wondered whether he had ever truly beheld
the Red One or whether it was a nightmare fancy of delirium.

Came the day when all mists and cob-webs dissolved, when he found
his brain clear as a bell, and took just appraisement of his body's
weakness. Neither hand nor foot could he lift. So little control
of his body did he have, that he was scarcely aware of possessing
one. Lightly indeed his flesh sat upon his soul, and his soul, in
its briefness of clarity, knew by its very clarity that the black
of cessation was near. He knew the end was close; knew that in all
truth he had with his eyes beheld the Red One, the messenger
between the worlds; knew that he would never live to carry that
message to the world--that message, for aught to the contrary,
which might already have waited man's hearing in the heart of
Guadalcanal for ten thousand years. And Bassett stirred with