l bright in memory.

"At sunset he came downstairs.... He was helping his wife on the
verandah, and gaily talking, when suddenly he put both hands to his
head, and cried out, 'What's that?' Then he asked quickly, 'Do I look
strange?' Even as he did so he fell on his knees beside her. He was
helped into the great hall, between his wife and body-servant, Sosimo,
losing consciousness instantly, as he lay back in the arm-chair that had
once been his grandfather's. Little time was lost in bringing the
doctors, Anderson of the man-of-war, and his friend Dr. Funk. They
looked at him and shook their heads ... he had passed the bounds of
human skill....

"The dozen and more Samoans that formed part of the clan of which he was
chief, sat in a wide semicircle on the floor, their reverent, troubled,
sorrow-stricken faces all fixed upon their dying master. Some knelt on
one knee to be instantly ready for any command that might be laid upon
them....

"He died at ten minutes past eight on Monday evening the 3rd of
December, in the forty-fifth year of his age.

"The great Union Jack that flew over the house was hauled down and laid
over the body, fit shroud for a loyal Scotsman. He lay in the hall which
was ever his pride, where he had passed the gayest and most delightful
hours of his life.... In it were the treasures of his far off Scottish
home.... The Samoans passed in procession beside his bed, kneeling and
kissing his hand, each in turn, before taking their places for the long
night watch beside him. No entreaty could induce them to retire, to
rest themselves for the painful arduous duties of the morrow. It would
show little love for Tusitala, they said, if they did not spend their
last night beside him. Mournful and silent, they sat in deep dejection,
poor, simple, loyal folks, fulfilling the duty that they owed their
chief.

"A messenger was dispatched to a few chiefs connected with the family,
to announce the tidings and bid them assemble their men on the morrow
for the work there was to do....

"The morning of the 4th of December broke cool and sunny.... A meeting
of chiefs was held to apportion the work and divide the men into
parties. Forty were sent with knives and axes to cut a path up the steep
face of the mountain, and the writer himself led another party to the
summit--men chosen from the immediate family--to dig the grave on the
spot where it was Robert Louis Stevenson's wish that he should lie....
Nothing mor