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the work which he had achieved at the cost of so much labour and pain was further depreciated by the fact that Mouhot did not survive to correct and explain the notes which he had made, and it is possible that some of the errors which resulted were due to misinterpretation of his memoranda.

Luang Prabang itself was reached on July 25th, and after some sojourn in the place and an interview with its king, Mouhot started to explore the country on the left bank of the Mekong. On October 15th, his diary shows, he started on his return-journey to Luang Prabang. On the 19th, he notes that he is stricken down by fever, and ten days later comes the last pitiful entry, the voice of one crying in the wilderness, the despairing appeal of the lonely white man, far from aid and home and comfort, dying among aliens in a distant land:

"Octobre 29me.—Ayez pitié de moi, O mon Dieu!"

Was ever the outcry of a human soul concentrated more pathetically into a single phrase?

Five years later his countrymen found his grave in mid-forest near the little village of Ban Naphao, on the banks of the Nam Kan, at a short distance from Luang Prabang, and over it they reared a simple monument. The spot where the dead explorer lies is finely described by Francis Garnier, and I quote his words here as in the original. Translation could only mar a passage whose beauty, if it stood alone instead of being but one of many striking pieces of word-painting, would serve to prove that Francis Garnier, the man of action, united to his other great qualities those of the literary artist.